


Next time, I'll bring backup

by Letut



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Memory Loss, Mildly Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-21
Updated: 2013-05-31
Packaged: 2017-11-16 18:27:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/542505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Letut/pseuds/Letut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Arthur was six years old he enjoyed watching the knights train. He and Dagonet could often be found sitting on the stone wall, whooping and cheering as the knights beat each other up. The king had told him that when he’s eight years old he can start his training. </p><p>Arthur didn't think time had ever moved this slowly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt at the Merlin kink meme; 
> 
> Arthur is cursed and turned into a baby but the spell can't be reversed so he has to grow up all over again.  
> It's a nice twist on the usual de-ageing fics.
> 
> So hello everyone, I'm Letut. I hope you enjoy my story.

Merlin tried everything he could think of. 

Leon and Gawain were sitting silently, staring into the fire they had built. Merlin barely felt the heat of it on his face; fully absorbed in the small form lying on his lap.

“Merlin,” Leon said as the sorcerer whispered another incantation under his breath. The fire flickered in the sudden wind, but nothing else happened.

“Merlin.”

Arthur giggled and grabbed onto one of Merlin’s fingers as he waved a hand over the prince’s face, a new spell already on his lips.

“Merlin,” Leon said again, a little firmer.

“What?” Merlin snapped, eyes glowing.

“We should go back,” the knight said calmly. “The king --”

“The king will have my bloody head,” Merlin cut him off, holding the baby’s tiny head carefully between his hands. “And not like last time - he will really kill me.”

“Look, it’s not your fault,” Gawain said, poking restlessly at the fire with a branch.

“No? Then whose fault is it? It’s my duty to protect him - it’s what I live to do. It’s the only reason, _the only reason_ , I’m alive,” Merlin said shakily. 

He knew he was slightly hysterical; probably had been since the sorceress had fallen to the ground, dead as could be, yet Arthur had not returned to his original form. The baby had still been lying on the ground, enveloped by the cloak in Camelot red; blue eyes blinking at the tree tops high above.

“But you have books, yeah?” Gawain asked. “You can have a look through them, see if there’s something you may have missed.”

Merlin didn’t reply. He didn’t say that he knew the books by heart. He didn’t say that the reason he didn’t want to go back was fear of the king. He didn’t say that if they went back and Arthur was still cursed, it would feel real, irreversible. 

Merlin didn’t say that he already knew that.

“Yeah, yeah, I have books,” Merlin said quietly, giving the young knight a quick tired smile. “I’ll fix this. I’ll fix him, don’t worry.”

“We know you will, Merlin,” Leon said, sounding reassuring in a way he should not be allowed to. “It’s too late to return today, however. We will ride at first light tomorrow.”

“Fine. He’ll be back to normal by then,” Merlin said, turning his focus once more to the baby lying on his lap, its eyes drifting shut.

“You need to rest, Merlin,” Leon said firmly. Merlin made a noise as if to protest but the older knight held up a palm to stop him. “No, it wouldn’t do for you to fall off your horse tomorrow, especially not with him. And if the prince returns to normal only to find you unconscious, he will have my hide. So, if you please.”

Merlin sighed and regarded the small child, snorting slightly at the fact that Leon knew without asking that Merlin would be carrying the prince.

“Merlin - ”

“Yes! Damn you, yes,” Merlin said, smiling slightly, without much mirth, and scooted off the log carefully so that he sat on the bedroll spread out in front of it. After some hesitant shuffling Merlin, lay curled up on his side with Arthur protected by the shield of his body; grey cloak keeping them both warm. Arthur was blinking so slowly it could hardly be called blinking at all, and he was making soft babbling noises with that tiny mouth, pink tongue poking out every now and then. “We humans are so fragile as children – just look at him – it’s a wonder so many of us survive at all. What if I roll over in my sleep and crush him? Or if the cloak falls and covers his face, smothering him?”

Gawain snorted softly from where he, too, was stretched out on his bedroll. “Then Arthur would break out of Avalon and haunt you for letting him die in a way most unbefitting for a prince.”

Leon shot the younger knight a sharp look across the fire but Merlin let out a huffing laugh. “Well, that’s alright then.”

***

Carrying a baby whilst riding a horse turned out to be problematic. Eventually, Merlin made a sling in the same colour as his tunic that he slung over one shoulder and under the opposite arm so that baby Arthur was snuggled against his chest, and thus leaving his arms free. When he wore his cloak the precious bundle was completely hidden from sight.

This was probably why they were summoned to the audience hall before they reached the stables and why Uther looked sickly pale as they approached the throne.

“Where is my son?” he said, quiet but steady.

Leon gave Merlin a look before stepping forward, “My Lord, there was a hostile sorceress in the forest. She attacked us and struck the prince before we could even see her.”

Uther drew a few deep breaths, forcibly calming himself. “What happened to him?”

This time Gawain took a step forward; the knights now standing slightly protectively in front of Merlin. “She cursed him, Your Majesty. She said it was irreversible and even if she could take it back she wouldn't. She is dead now.”

Uther slowly got of the throne and walked towards them and finally the pair had to move aside or defy their king as he stood before Merlin.

“Merlin,” he said, with thinly stretched patience, “what happened to my son?”

“I tried everything, you have to believe me. I was too slow and I failed him and I know you will probably have me killed now, but you have to know that I tried everything,” Merlin said, unable to look the king in the eyes, the warm weight of the golden prince a comfort and a curse against him.

Uther placed a hand on Merlin’s shoulder and waited until the warlock finally looked at him. “I know how devoted you are to him and that if you could have stopped something from happening to him, you would have. But you have to tell me -”

He was cut off by the unmistakable wail of a baby.

Merlin pushed the grey cloak aside and carefully folded back the blue fabric of the sling.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Uther just stared at the crying child, without doubt recognising exactly who it was. After a moment, Merlin handed Arthur over to his father, who seemed almost reluctant to take him, holding the baby as if it was the most treasured thing on this earth. Which it probably was.

“Is it- Is it irreversible?” the king finally asked.

“I haven’t given up on trying,” Merlin said firmly.

“But what do you think,” Uther said, still looking at the baby. The crying was slowly turning into hiccups.

“Yes. Probably,” Merlin relented.

Uther turned with a slow nod and walked back to sit on the throne. “You may leave. Summon the castle steward on your way out.”

Leon and Gawain bowed to the king and left, but Merlin stayed.

“What is to happen to me?” he said, resigned.

Uther finally looked up. “You are Arthur’s advisor, are you not? And the unofficial court sorcerer.” 

“Well, yes-”

“Then you may leave,” Uther said firmly.

Merlin blinked at him for a moment, shocked. “I- thank you, my lord. I shall keep on searching for a cure.” Then, with a deep bow, he swept out.

***

The next few weeks were a nightmare for Merlin. He spent almost every waking hour locked up in the chambers he had been given all those months ago, when his secret came out. He had an array of animals in cages; everything from toads to ducks, which he had tried to age and de-age. Nothing had worked. Every third day Merlin was to report his progress to the king. Every single time he had to admit to his failure and see the king lose a little more hope.

He had not seen Arthur since that day. He knew, everyone knew, that he had been moved to the same chambers he had been in last time he was this age. The people of Camelot had mourned him as if he had died when the king announced the terrible news. Merlin knew that announcing it was the same as accepting it, but he refused to give up trying.

He slowly opened the door to the chambers and peered inside. There was a nursemaid sitting on the floor, holding a wooden dragon over Arthur, who was lying on his back on a quilt, reaching for it and squealing happily. The maid looked up and hastily got to her feet.

“My lord. I mean, Merlin,” she said, quickly. When he had been made an advisor he had told off all the servants from addressing him as lord Merlin. Some still couldn’t stop themselves.

“Hello, Alicea,” he said, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. “How is he?”

“He’s good. Very energetic,” she said. Arthur made a noise which suggested he’d very much like his toy back.

“The same as usual, then?” Merlin said with what might have been called a laugh had there been any mirth in it. Alicea smiled uncertainly.

“I was, um, actually about to call for someone to attend to the prince. I have an errand to run. Would you mind terribly..?” she said. Merlin knew exactly what she was doing and felt grateful at not having to ask.

“Yes, sure. Absolutely,” Merlin said with a nod.

She smiled, surer this time. “Thank you, I shan't be but a moment.” She slipped into the hall soundlessly.

And then Merlin was alone with the prince.

He picked up the toy dragon from where she had dropped it and held it over Arthur, who renewed his attempts to grab it. Merlin let him have it and watched with amusement as the left wing disappeared into his mouth.

“How are you doing, enjoying just lying around?” Merlin asked. “Huh, of course you’re not. You want to be out there on the training field, beating the snot out of your knights. Or prancing around in the woods as if you’re untouchable.”

Arthur dropped the toy and tried to grab it again, whining when he couldn't.

“You’re not, you know,” Merlin said as he held up a cube with numbers carved out of the sides instead. “If you learn one thing from this once I get you back, I hope it’s that you’re really not untouchable.”

Arthur judged the cube inadequate and let it slip from his hands. He gave Merlin a look which the sorcerer did not know what it meant. “You believe that I’ll get you back, don’t you?”

Merlin lifted the baby carefully, smiling slightly at the gleeful noise that action brought, and placed him on his lap. The tiny feet kicked at Merlin’s stomach. “Do you believe anything? Are you even aware of who you are?”

Arthur made a grab for the neckerchief hanging above him, most likely to stuff it into his mouth along with his fist.

Merlin tried not to take that as a ‘no’.

“Don’t leave me. Please?” Merlin said, touching Arthur’s face lightly with the pads of his fingers. Merlin tried for casual but it did nothing to keep the slight tremble out of his voice. “Just, please. Yeah?”

When Alicea came back ten minutes later he felt relieved to get out of the room. 

***

Merlin didn't want to be here. Of course he didn't. But it was the only thing he had yet to try.

The Isle somehow managed to look even more bleak and colourless than last time. He spent a brief minute on the edge of the circle of charred grass before walking up next to the altar. 

He had returned only once after the death of Nimueh, called by something like a voice but not quite. It had been the gods of the old religion. Merlin couldn't see them and he couldn't hear them, but they were there. And they were not pleased. Apparently, if you kill a priest or priestess of the old religion, nothing happens. But if the person has magic, has, not knows, you have to take their place. Merlin, incidentally, has magic. Luckily for Merlin you didn't really have to do anything, it‘s really just a title, but the gods had access to your thoughts. And they had opinions about every piece of news they got through him. Not that they could be bothered to do something. Merlin could only actually speak to them when he was on the Isle of the Blessed.

The warlock pressed his palms to the top of the altar.

“Hello? I come with a request,” he said to the crumbling walls.

_Request?What do, what_  
 _do you request_  
 _do you request guidance_  
 _yes, request guidance_  
 _Hello Emrys_

“No, I request knowledge. Or a favour. Whichever can help me with my troubles,” Merlin said quickly. He had learnt that if he didn’t speak the echoes could go on forever.

_Troubles?_  
 _troubles to one could_  
 _one could be success_  
 _to others_  
 _others have been_  
 _hereherehere_  
 _Hello_

“Yes, hello, what do you mean with others have been here?” Merlin asked with a frown. The cobweb in a broken window arch swayed, as if in thought. Merlin stared at it as a substitute for the gods he could not see.

_She asked for a trade_  
 _we do so love a trade_  
 _trade?_

“No, I - I have not come here for a trade,” Merlin said stiffly. “What did she want? What did she pay? And who is she?”

_A second chance_  
 _not for her_  
 _herself_  
 _selfless, so rare_  
 _how could we resist?_

“Please, none of your games and obscurities. I haven’t the patience for it,” Merlin snapped. Sometimes the gods were enough to make one miss the bloody dragon. The clouds above him must have drifted slightly for the Isle was suddenly bathed in the soft yellow light of the sun.

_A second life_  
 _life we brought_  
 _the first time around_  
 _we brought the second_  
 _time around_  
 _lifechildlifechild_  
 _life around_

Merlin swallowed thickly, pieces falling into place before him. “A second life for Arthur?”

_Hello_

He stood there for three hours in silence, listening to the echoes, before finally tearing his hands away. The not-quite-noise dimmed but didn't vanish completely. Merlin went back to Camelot, almost wishing he had not gone at all.

***

Merlin went to Arthur’s chambers and startled when he saw Uther sitting on a chair, Arthur sleeping against his shoulder.

The king made a motion for him to enter, but quietly, a gesture even Merlin could interpret.

“I went to the Isle of the Blessed,” Merlin said after a moment. Uther looked at him sharply. “I talked to the gods.”

“Did they have anything to do with this?” Uther said, grim.

“They had everything to do with this,” Merlin said bitterly. They do love trading with Arthur’s life. “The sorceress, Miriam, her name was, she came to them and asked to give Arthur a second chance at his life. Cost her, her own life, she was twenty one years old, see? She would have died a few hours later had I not... well.”

“Arthur was twenty two,” Uther said, slowly, putting everything together in his mind. “And now he is roughly one.”

“Exactly, my lord,” Merlin confirmed.

“Can another trade be arranged?” Uther asked.

“I wouldn't be here if it could,” Merlin said tiredly. 

“Technically, one could trade and he would be the same age he was a few weeks ago,” Merlin explains, “but he would still have the memories and the mind of the child he is now. He probably had the memories from his twenty-two years when he first was cursed, but having the mental capacity of a one year old, he can’t sustain it. It’s all gone.”

Uther bore a look on his face which reminded Merlin of Arthur when he had to look regal, and it was startling to see so suddenly so he looked away.

“I am assuming that we don’t have any other options left,” Uther said, ever the king.

“It would seem so. You can’t go around something the old religion has done. It never ends well, if it can be done at all,” Merlin said. He tried not to think too hard about the fact that he was admitting defeat.

“So,” Uther said, absently running his fingers over Arthur’s small back. “It begins again. How small the chances are that he grows up the same way and becomes the same person. Then, my son is gone and here I am with another. Does that seem right to you?”

“No,” Merlin said, not knowing what the king was thinking. “No, it seems unfair.”

Uther looked at him then, “I forget, you lose something more than a prince as well, do you not?”

Merlin fumbled for something to say. He knew that the king knew about him and Arthur, but it was never spoken out loud.

“I hope you understand, that if you touch him-”

“Gods, no!” Merlin almost shouts, horrified. “I would never- I love him, I wouldn't ever do anything to-”

“I thought as much. Just making sure you remember it.” Uther said calmly, looking away again. “You may leave.”

Taking the dismissal for what it was, Merlin bowed and left the rooms, leaving the king and the prince to start anew.

***

When Merlin stepped into the audience chambers after having been summoned two weeks later, he feels a certain weariness settle over him. The court was assembled and Uther was sitting in his throne, Morgana standing before him. She turned her head as he walked to stand next to her, her eyes as questioning as his own.

“It can no-longer be ignored that the crown prince of Camelot cannot be cured by anything other than time,” Uther said, and the murmurs die away as his words settle across the hall.

“I have been the King of Camelot for a very long time. I hold no illusions that I will live to see my sons second tenth birthday. But a child cannot rule a Kingdom. So I hereby appoint the Lady Morgana and Lord Merlin to be regents at my time of death, until, the prince’s coming of age,” Uther said with such authority no-one would dare complain. 

Merlin’s eyes widened and he looked over at Morgana who was sporting a similar look of shock.

Uther gestured for them to approach the throne. He stood to meet them.

“Do you both accept the duties I bestow on you? Do you vow to do your best to keep this Kingdom safe for as long as it is under you protection? Do you swear to hand over the throne to the rightful heir, my son Arthur Pendragon, when he comes of age? Do you both swear?” Uther asked, and Merlin was struck with the ridiculous though that this was really bloody official.

Merlin looked at Morgana again who took his hand before they both said, “We do so swear, my lord.”

“Then my mind is at peace.” The king said, and managed what might have perhaps been a very small smile.

***

The first two years in Arthur’s second life Merlin realized a few things.

One is that he now had a ridiculous amount of spare time. He usually spent all his time running around after Arthur. That isn’t an option anymore, of course.

So he started a project. He started a book. The book of the adventures of Arthur. 

He told the stories to baby Arthur, who blinks at him and giggles at the mad gestures and voices, as a quill takes it all down in a mighty tome. 

But Merlin didn’t know Arthur all his life, so he can’t tell all of it on his own.

“I really don’t think that I am the right person for this, Merlin.” Leon said, looking extremely uncomfortable where he’s sitting on an empty barrel. Arthur pulled at Leon’s belt and babbled happily about everything and nothing. Leon held him steady on his knee with stiff hands.

“Nonsense, Leon, just tell him about something. Anything really.” Merlin said, the heavy book open on the grass between his knees, quill hovering over a blank page.

“I’m no bard, Merlin. I don’t have the words for storytelling.” Leon said, eye twitching as his thumb suddenly ended up between the few, yet sharp, teeth Arthur had.

“Don’t worry. It get’s fixed as it is written.” Merlin said, amused. “Look, just, what was one of the first adventurous or brave things Arthur did when you first joined the knights of Camelot that you can remember?”

Leon looked thoughtfully at the practice field where the knights were following Bedivere’s instructions. He had taken over practice seeing as he was one of the few who could hold his own against Arthur, and had, on that one memorable occasion, beaten him.

“Well,” Leon started slowly, “He was eighteen when I joined, I had been sent by my father, and the same week the king got word that a basilisk was terrorising a village. Just nearby the lake at the foot of Mount Gardes, you know the place.”

Merlin nodded, eyes following the quill as it skidded across the page.

Arthur didn’t pay attention as Leon told him the tale of how he defeated the mystical creature, but Merlin knew he would listen, some day, as it was read from the book. 

As Leon reached the end of the story he was startled by the loud clapping from the other knights who had gathered behind him. “Maybe you should give up this knight business and become a travelling bard,” Gawain said pleasantly.

Leon blushed at the attention and handed a squirming Arthur back to Merlin who beamed back at him.

“Thank you Sir Leon,” Merlin said with a teasing glint in his eyes.

“Glad I could help, my Lord,” Leon shot back. “Though, if you want a story, you should ask Galahad to tell you about the battle of Ramsgate.”

A murmur ran through the knights at the mention of Ramsgate. Merlin knew that it was where Arthur was made a knight but little more than that. ”Really? Sir Galahad, will you honour the prince with your story?”

Galahad went and traded places with Leon. ”Honour is all mine, my lords.” he said, wide smile pulling on the scar on his cheek as he sat down on the barrel. Merlin flicked to a new page with a gesture as Galahad began. ”Barely sixteen years old was he then, and I knew that it was a fearsome war leader inside that boy. He took down men the size of beasts that I would hesitate to challenge.”

***

Merlin spent nearly all his free time between court duties and research with Arthur, reading to him about his life. Perhaps this is why Arthur’s first word was ”Me’lin”.

Arthur understood, as much as a child of three could understand, what had happened to him. And he took great delight in the stories. His favourite, for some reason is the one about the griffin. 

”Lancelot is very brave, isn’t he?” Arthur asked, eyes following the small griffin as it charged across the floor of his chambers. He whooped when the lance in the miniature knight’s hand burst into blue flames and the two met in the middle of the room.

”’Course he is. One of the bravest men I’ve met.” Merlin said, turning the page in the large book and the scene changed to a tunnel where a man was leading a young boy by the hand.

”He’s my first knight.” Arthur said.

”Lancelot isn’t really a knight-”

”Lancelot is my first knight.” Arthur said, looking at Merlin over his shoulder, just like he used to, right before he did something stupid and noble.

Merlin lets out a long suffering sigh and ruffles Arthur’s hair. Arthur tries and fails to squirm away.

***

When Lancelot walks into the courtyard tree weeks later Merlin greets him with a wide grin.

”Lancelot, you look well,” he said. Which wasn’t a lie. Lancelot looked cleaner and happier than he did last time they parted ways, in the forest outside Hengin's fort. 

”I feel well. How are you, my friend?” Lancelot replied, hand clasping Merlin’s forearm and pulling him into a brief but solid hug.

”You know me.” Merlin said, and Lancelot doesn’t comment on the deflection.

”There’s a rumor, spreading all over Albion. I don’t know what to believe, it’s different every time I hear it.” Lancelot said, giving Merlin a slightly hesitant look. ”Word caught me months ago, at the edge of the sea in the North. It says that the prince has been be spelled.”

”Word doesn’t travel as quickly as it used to. It was almost three years ago.” Merlin said with an amused tilt on his lips.

”Merlin--”

”Arthur is fine. Different, of course. But he seems happy enough.” Merlin said with a shrug.

Lancelot looked like he was about to say something else when a high voice rang across the court yard.

”Merlin!”

The two men looked over to see a three year old child sprint towards them, a startled looking knight coming not far behind.

”Merlin, Tristram’s taking me to see the dogs,” Arthur said as he slammed into Merlin’s leg, small arms wrapping around it.

”Is he now?” Merlin said, looking up at the aforementioned knight as he caught up to them with amusement. ”I thought you were supposed to be studying this afternoon.”

”I’m sorry, my lord,” Tristram said, looking a tad sheepish. ”He wouldn’t be quiet about the new dogs.”

”Medlam had new pups last week. And father said that I could pick one and it would be mine and I would train him and walk him and we would hunt and he will be the best one ’cause I’m gonna love him so much that he will be my best friend forever.” Arthur said, eyes looking up at Merlin, all wide and blue. ”Apart from you,” he added, flashing a gap-toothed grin.

”Thanks,” Merlin said and shared an amused look with Tristram. ”It warms me that I’m better than a dog.”

”Of course you are.” Arthur said, not catching the tone at all.

”Merlin..” Lancelot said and Merlin almost startles, looking up from the child wrapped around his leg. ”Is this-?”

”Ah, ”Merlin said and untangles Arthur’s arms. ”Arthur, this is a very good friend of mine. You remember Lancelot, don’t you?”

Arthur looked at Lancelot in shock before beaming. ”Lancelot! You killed the griffin!”

Lancelot blinked at the young prince. ”Uh..”

”I know you did. You and Merlin!” Arthur said, pleased as you like. ”You’re my first knight, aren’t you?”

”Uh..” 

”Don’t you.. want to be my first knight?” Arthur said suddenly and looked fairly horrified.

Lancelot smoothly went to one knee and held Arthur’s hand in his. ”It would be an honour, my lord.” He said with such sincerity that probably only Lancelot could get away with it without sounding like a giant prat.

Arthur gave Merlin a smirk that looked a lot like ’I told you so’.

There was a loud gasp and the sound of something hitting the ground. The men and the child looked up to see Gwen standing in the courtyard with a basket of apples lying at her feet.

Lancelot quickly stood up and the two locked eyes with each other.

”Guinevere.” Lancelot said and Gwen practically threw herself around his neck. He looked startled for a second before resting his hands on her back. 

”Oh, you were gone for so long, I though perhaps-” Gwen said into his shoulder.

”I would cross oceans and level mountains,” is all Lancelot said, and maybe that says it all.

Arthur suddenly made an appalled sound. ”Gwen,” he whined and places a small hand firmly on each of their thighs and pried them apart, much like he just did with the moment. ”Ew, Gwen, no, you’re getting germs on my first knight.”

Merlin couldn’t quite stop the bark of laughter. Gwen flushed rather nicely and hastily let go of Lancelot. Lancelot awkwardly held his arms at his sides. Arthur grabbed one of his hands and tried to pull him away. ”I’ll save you Lancelot! We can go to the dogs. You can help me pick my pup!”

Merlin decided to spare them all. ”Actually, Gwen and Lancelot have some boring grown up things to do. I’ll take you to see the pups instead.”

Arthur unceremoniously took Merlin’s hand instead. ”You mean more hugging, don’t you?” he said, sounding, perhaps, a little disappointed.

”I don’t think I’m at a liberty to say, my lord.” Merlin said, smiling as Gwen blushed some more. ”Go ahead with Tristram, I’ll be there in a mo. And don’t bully him!” The last is called after Arthur as he marches off, Tristram trailing after him.

”I will talk to you later, yeah?” Merlin asked. ”You won’t bugger off again, will you?”

”I think I might stay this time.” Lancelot said and smiled at Gwen who was determinedly looking anywhere but at the two men in front of her.

”Good! I’m sure Gwen can fill you in on the whole Arthur being a bit short business.” Merlin said, with a wry twist of his lips. 

He was just about to turn and follow Arthur when something hit him. ”You know,” he said. ”It seems like this time around, Arthur will be competing with Gwen for Lancelot’s affections.”

He laughed at their spluttering as he wandered off across the yard.

***

In fact, Arthur found girls just a little bit gross. He simply refused to entertain Lady Cyrel, a shy girl of four years, who lived at court with her parents. Instead he spent all his time (in between his lessons, sitting with his father at court and hounding Merlin) with a peasant boy from the lower towns.

”Dagonet says blue bells are blue because a warlock with blue eyes cried on them. Was it you?” Arthur asked, standing on a stool so that he could lean over Merlin’s desk, blocking the scroll he was writing on from his view.

”What? No, that- I don’t think that’s true, Arthur. Why would anyone walk around and cry on flowers?” Merlin said, rather amused. Dagonet was the son to one of the cooks and he liked to talk. And when he had nothing more to say he made things up. Merlin found him terribly entertaining.

”I dunno, maybe he lost his lover.” Arthur said, sitting back on his haunches on the stool, wobbling dangerously for a moment.

Merlin looked up then, startled. ”What? Why would you say that?”

Arthur wore the face that suggested he did not know what the word lover meant but enjoyed saying it if only to sound like an adult. ”Dagonet says your heart breaks when you lose your lover.”

”And did he tell you what that means?”

Arthur pouted, contemplating. ”Well, no. He said he didn’t know. But his mother told him that, so, he says, it must be true. Why, what does it mean?”

Merlin looked intensively at the place where his quill was bleeding ink onto the scroll. ”It means someone you love deeply. Intimately.”

Arthur nodded understandingly before asking, ”What does in-tee-mat-lee mean?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, some underage dub-con elements in this chapter, you have been warned.

When Arthur was six years old he enjoyed watching the knights train. He and Dagonet could often be found sitting on the stone wall, whooping and cheering as the knights beat each other up. The king had told him that when he’s eight years old he can start his training. 

Arthur doesn’t think time has ever moved this slowly.

On one particular afternoon Arthur was sitting on the grass between Kay and Gawain, watching Bedivere smacking an aspiring knight into the ground. 

”And now she’s off to visit her mother for three weeks,” Gawain said with an underlying whine in his voice. ”I mean, I won’t get any--” there was that pause Arthur had learnt meant someone hesitated to say something inappropriate in his vicinity, which really only served to peak his interest,”--apple pie, for a really long time!” 

”Look,” Kay said. ”When you’ve been without for six years whilst knowing that your lover will never be that to you again you have a right to moan about it.”

There was that word again. He knew that a lover was someone you love in-tee-mat-lee. Who also makes apple pie.

Arthur didn’t fully understand it.

”Gods, I know. I can’t phantom how Merlin copes. I mean, I’ve offered --” Gawain said, agreeing, and Arthur’s head whipped around so fast his neck made a popping sound.

”Copes with what?”

Gawain looked mildly horrified. ”Nothing, Sire.”

”Losing his lover,” Kay said calmly and sipped from his water skin. 

Arthur’s eyes widened. ”Merlin lost his lover?”

”Kay--” Gawain said warningly.

”What?” Kay said with a shrug. ”Look, both Merlin and the King decided that Arthur should be told about his first life and what that meant for him. He should know this part of who he was, sooner rather than later.”

”What tale are you telling him now, Kay.” Geraint asked as he sat down heavily on the grass next to Arthur, ruffling the young prince’s hair.

”Kay wants to tell him about Merlin’s love,” Gawain said through gritted teeth.

”Oh,” Geraint said, eyes wide. ”Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

”What? What’s so special about his love?” Arthur demanded, feeling left out.

”Why is it a bad idea? It’s an important part of who he was,” Kay argues, ignoring the pouting Arthur.

”I’m just concerned. I don’t think Merlin wants him to know about it. If he did, he would have told him,” Geraint said reasonably. ”Let’s see what Leon thinks.”

Kay threw his hands up in exasperation as Leon was called over.

”Leon, do you think Kay should tell Arthur about Merlin’s Lover?” Gawain asked and Arthur frowned at the capital ’L’ in the word.

Leon almost blanched. ”I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” he said hesitantly.

Soon all of the four knights were talking loudly at once. When Bedivere and Bors joined in Kay snapped and almost shouted at the lot of them.

”Look here, you tossers,” he said. ”What they had was unorthodox, but brilliant, yeah? We can all agree on that. Now, if you had, at some point, had that, wouldn’t you want to bloody well know about it?”

There was a silence and Arthur held his breath.

Finally, Gawain frowned deeply. ”Fine, you tell him what you want. But when Uther beheads you, he beheads you alone.”

Kay nodded with a smile. “I can live with that.”

“Without your head? You really can’t, mate.” Bors chimed in but Kay ignored him in favour of sitting himself down in front of the prince.

“Well then, sire, do you want me to tell you?” he started and the rest of the knights sat down nearby as well, listening whilst looking away.

“Yes, please.” Arthur said, tacking the please on the end like Merlin said he should.

“Right, to start I should ask, do you know what a lover means?” Kay said simply.

“Yes,” Arthur grinned and intoned the strange word carefully. “It’s when you love someone in-tee-mat-lee.” 

“I suppose you could say that,” Kay nodded slowly, looking amused. “I guess I should ask; do you know what sex is?”

Leon looked sharply at Kay then. “Kay, no.”

Bedivere looked incredibly uncomfortable and flushed as he agreed. “I really don’t think you should tell him about this whole thing with Merlin in detail.”

“Look, I’m telling the story. Or did you want to do it?” Kay said airily. The other two didn’t say anything else. “Good, so Arthur?”

Arthur did know what it was. Sort of. He knew it was something dirty that young boys weren’t supposed to know about.

“Um, Dagonet’s brother told us- I mean, he said something about boys and keys and girls and locks,” Arthur said and paused to look at the grass next to his knee before mumbling. “He said boys put their keys in the locks.”

“And you understand what he meant by that?”

Arthur nodded as he looked up, trying not to blush.

“Well, then, that’s something you’re actually only supposed to do when you’re married but people do it anyway. And when you bed someone you’re not married to that person is called your lover. See?” Kay said, with a flourish.

Arthur nodded and looked at Gawain. “What about the apple pie?”

Gawain chokes lightly on his own spit as Kay laughs loudly. “Ignore that. That was just Gawain being a prat.”

“So, does that mean Merlin lost his wife that he wasn’t married to?”

“Clever! Yes and no,” Kay laughs. “Y’see, what Dagonet’s brother said about girls having locks, is that boys have locks too.”

Arthur gave him an extremely dubious look.

“No, really. I mean, Bedivere and Geraint, they’re both men, yes?” Kay insisted.

“Oi!” both of the mentioned knights snapped at the same time.

“Do you have to involve us?” Geraint asked, almost pleading.

Kay ignored them as he pressed on. “They’re both men, but they’re lovers anyway.”

Arthur looked at Bedivere who was sitting half-leaning against Geraint’s back, Geraint’s gloved hand resting lightly on Bedivere’s on the grass. When he thought about it, it didn’t seem too strange. He wasn’t even all that surprised. Though the lock thing still didn’t make sense and he said as much.

“Well, we don’t have locks, to be precise, but we’re not going to talk about that now,” Kay said hurriedly as Bedivere and Geraint glared at him. “The point is that Merlin had a lover who was a man. And Merlin lost him. He didn’t die, but Merlin still can’t have him back. And Merlin loved him, still loves him, very, very much, so he never got another lover. And that’s what Gawain and I was talking about earlier.”

“Why?” Arthur frowned suddenly. “Why would he leave? Didn’t he love Merlin very, very much as well? Why would he do that to Merlin?”

“He didn’t want to leave.” Kay said, reassuringly, reaching a hand out to brush over Arthur’s hair. “But he didn’t have a choice. He got cursed, y’see. He got cursed so he’s still here, but he’s—different.”

Arthur blinked at Kay. He blinked again. Then he promptly threw up in the grass.

***

“Father. Father!” Arthur said loudly as he stumbled into the council chambers. “Can I talk to you? Please, I need to talk to you.”

Uther gave Arthur a look and takes in his son’s pale face before dismissing the two lords he was talking to.

“What is it, Arthur?” he asked and sat down on his chair.

“I, it’s just that- they said. That is, he said, I mean, I heard that- I-” Arthur rambled, trying to breathe whilst explaining. After he had gotten rid of his breakfast he had bolted, leaving the group of stunned knight’s behind.

“Calm down, son, before you pass out.” Uther said and bent down to lift Arthur up onto his knee, groaning as it pulled at his back. “Tell me what happened.”

“I was told, I mean, is it true that Merlin and I, um, were lovers?” Arthur rambled out, looking wide eyed at Uther. 

Uther mirrored the look. “Did Merlin tell you this?”

“No, one of the knights.” Arthur said, leaving out whom at the memory of Gawain saying something about heads getting chopped off. “Is it true?”

Uther looked at a bit of a loss for a moment before sighing. “Yes. Yes, it’s true, I suppose.”

“You suppose? Arthur asked, eyebrows raised high. “You mean we didn’t tell you?”

Uther coughed uncomfortably. “You never had to tell me, and I’m very glad we did without that particular conversation.”

“But you knew?” Arthur pressed. “So we were?”

“Yes, you were,” Uther admitted. “Arthur, when, whoever, told you, did they explain-”

“Locks, keys, wives you’re not married to, and who are actually boys. Yea, I know all that,” Arthur nodded quickly.

“Yes, that,” Uther said. “You do realize boys aren’t really meant to be together?”

Uther blinked at his father. “No? It isn’t allowed? Did I break the law?” he said, suddenly worried.

Uther looked startled. “No, no, there isn’t a law against it, it’s just mostly frowned upon. But I’ve always loved you no matter what.”

Arthur grinned at the familiar words and ignored the look he sometimes sees on the king’s face. “I love you too,” he said. “So, you didn’t mind, then?”

“No,” Uther said thoughtfully. “No, not really.”

“Then we can be together again now,” Arthur said, looking pleased. Uther didn’t react at first, then he huffed out an unsure laugh. “You what?”

Arthur tugged on the lapels on his father’s coat. “Now that I know we, can be lovers again,” he said, his young voice high and excited.

“You most certainly can’t,” Uther said firmly and it was Arthur’s turn to look incredulous. “But you just said-”

“Arthur, there’s a reason no-one ever told you this.”

Arthur sat silently as he came to a conclusion. “Merlin doesn’t love me anymore?” he asked, sounding very small.

“Of course he does, son,” Uther groaned.

“Then I don’t understand-”

“You’re six years old, Arthur,” Uther cut him off.

The silence stretched until it was almost a sound.

“How,” Arthur asked, plaintive. “How old is Merlin?”

“He’s twenty five,” Uther said, giving Arthur’s nape a comforting squeeze. “So you see?”

“I don’t see how that’s fair, though. We’re in love,” Arthur said, quietly. 

“It’s not always fair,” Uther sighed. “But I don’t think you love him. Not like that. I’m sure you love him, but you’re not in love.”

Arthur didn’t see the difference but nodded anyway and said, “So when will I be old enough?”

Uther chuckled. “You do realize Merlin will age at the same pace as you, don’t you?” Arthur just nodded impatiently. Uther huffed. “Well, when you’re twenty one you’ll be king. You can make your own decisions then, I’d say.”

Arthur beamed as there was a knock at the door.

“My lords,” a guard said from the doorway. “Lord Merlin has returned from the south border. Do you wish to hear his report now?”

“Excellent, send him in. We have matters to discuss,” Uther said, lifting Arthur off his lap. Merlin sauntered in, hair on end from the flight, and he smiled when seeing Arthur. Arthur made as if to run towards him when Uther pinched the back of his tunic. “Arthur, return to your chambers, you have Latin in half an hour, I believe.”

Arthur gave his father a betrayed look. “But I want to hear Merlin’s report!”

“He can tell you all about it later, now leave us.”

“You’re not going to be angry at him, are you?” Arthur asked worriedly.

“Of course not,” Uther laughed. “He’s not the one who told you, after all.”

Arthur smiles that smile he saves for when he’s in trouble. “I don’t think I can remember which knight it was. I mean, there are an awful lot of them.”

“Is that so?” Uther asked, amused.

Arthur nodded eagerly and bounded across the hall, only pausing to give Merlin’s leg a quick hug.

“My lord,” Merlin bowed as the door closed and he reached the dais. “I hope everything has been well in my absence.”

Uther looked at the man bowing before him and thought of a bumbling boy who hadn't grown into his ears as he said, “Arthur knows.”

Merlin looked confused for a moment before his features cleared. “Please tell me you mean something other than what I think you mean,” he said with a wince.

“One of the knights told him,” Uther said with a long suffering sigh.

“I’m going to flay Kay alive,” Merlin groaned without any heat. “How did Arthur take it?”

“I think he’s confused,” Uther said.

“Did he understand-?”

“Oh, he understood,” Uther said. “And he thinks he’s in love with you.”

Merlin didn’t say anything for a long while, just rubs his fingers – still dirty from the travelling – over his eyes and mouth. When he did speak, his voice was like gravel. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” he said, letting out a wry laugh.

“Indeed, but he thinks that he does, and that’s what it comes down to,” Uther said, causing Merlin to look up. “He’s going to approach you.”

Merlin’s eyes widen. “Didn’t you tell him-!”

“I hardly think it matters what I tell him,” Uther said dryly. “My son has always had a knack for disobeying me when it comes to you.” Merlin gave him a pained smile. “I just thought you ought to know so that when he does go to you, you’ll be prepared to turn him away.”

"Of course I’ll turn him away,” Merlin assures.

“Most men would be too weak to resist temptation,” Uther said composedly. “But my son used to say that you’re not a weak man. And I trust his judgement.”

***

“Kay!” Arthur cried out across the training grounds. “Kay, I need your help!”

The knight in question whirled around, looking torn between relief and anger, a look Arthur has seen an awful lot. “Arthur, you can’t just run off like that!” he said, kneeling down and grabbing the prince’s arm. “I’ve been worried sick. Leon’s tearing his hair out.”

“Never mind that, he has lots of hair. I need your help,” Arthur said, pulling at the strong fingers around his arm until they let go. “I need you to tell me about the boys and the lock.”

Kay looked like he just swallowed something really unpleasant.

“Nuh, no way,” he said, shaking his head with a sceptical laugh. “Maybe the lads were right, I shouldn’t have told you anything.”

“Oh, _please_!” Arthur tried to wheedle.

“No. You’re too young, you can’t make me,” Kay said.

“I’m the bloody prince, I am!”

“Don’t swear at me, you little pest,” Kay said and slung Arthur onto his shoulder. “I can drop you in the moat, say it was an accident.”

Arthur shrieked with laughter as Kay dug his fingers into his sides before setting him back down on the ground where Arthur promptly fell on his arse, winded by the tickles.

“Kay,” Arthur panted. “Please, Kay, go on then.”

Kay looked down on the undignified heap of a prince. “Why?” he asked wearily.

“If you tell me, I can tell Dagonet,” Arthur lies. “Do you know how brilliant that will make me? I’ll be like a war hero, or something.”

“War hero?”

“Also, I have to know these things.” Arthur pressed. “It’s my princely duty.”

“Is it, now?” Kay said, amused. Arthur just stared back at him, stubbornness written into every line of his small body. Kay looked at him and was reminded of someone. He groaned and heaved Arthur over his shoulder again when he realized that Arthur just reminded him of _Arthur_.

“I’m sure there’s a special corner of hell waiting just for me,” he said, resigned. 

***

“Are you sure about this?” Dagonet said, eyeing the scroll extremely dubiously.

“Of course I am,” Arthur said, appearing inside the blanket fort they built in his chambers. “Merlin loves me, I’m sure of it. And the whole, y’know, _sex_ thing is supposed to feel nice. So if I make Merlin feel good he’ll definitely take me back.”

“I’m not trying to be crude, or nothing,” Dagonet said, pointing to one of the pictures Kay’s drawn. “But taking a shit don’t exactly feel nice, so I don’t see how putting something _up_ there-”

I’ll just not do that one, then,” Arthur cut him off, cheeks flushing slightly as he snatched the scroll up and ducked out of the fort, Dagonet right behind him. “You’re being very unsupportive, you know.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just,” Dagonet pushed a finger absently through a hole in his tunic, stretching it. “This whole plan is making me nervous.”

Arthur stuck the scroll between his belt and his hip. “Don’t be,” Arthur smiled. “It’ll be brilliant and Merlin will see that it’s alright to love me again. It’ll make him happy. Don’t you want him to be happy?”

“‘Course I do. I like Merlin, he’s nice,” Dagonet said, grinning.

“Exactly,” Arthur agreed. The loud bells signalled the turn of another hour and Arthur bounced on his feet. “Well, I’m off. Will you stay here?”

Dagonet shrugged. “I dunno, how long will it take?”

Arthur shrugged back. “I don’t know. I’ve never done this before.”

“I’d better head home, then,” Dagonet said and followed Arthur out the servants’ door where he gave him a hug. 

“Good luck, mate.”

“Thanks Dagonet,” Arthur hugged him back briefly before they both disappeared down different corridors in the shadows.

Due to years of sneaking into the court sorcerer’s chambers Arthur was soon standing in the doorway, looking at the huge bed where Merlin was snoring softly. Arthur knew that Merlin sleeps so at ease because only people allowed in can get through the door. Arthur has always been allowed in.

He stepped on the trunk at the foot of the bed to carefully climb onto the mattress. Merlin didn’t even stir as it dipped. Arthur ignored the shaking in his hands as he plucked the scroll from his belt, unrolling it in front of him where he sat next to Merlin’s thigh.

“Right,” he said, peering at the images in the dark, trying to read the little notes underneath each one. “Right.”

There was only a thin sheet covering Merlin up to his ribs as he was sprawled on his back in the summer heat. Arthur grabbed a fist full and slowly drew it down to past Merlin’s thighs. Arthur almost jumped out of his skin as Merlin snuffled into the fleshy part of his upper arm.

Arthur locked his jaw, annoyed with himself – after all, Merlin wanted this, Arthur knew he did – and tugged Merlin’s night clothes out of the way.

Arthur could only recall seeing a grown man’s cock once before, and that had only been the briefest glimpse of Sir Leon, down by the creek. He remembered feeling a bit in awe, though. So now he took his time just to look. Merlin’s prick was soft and pink where it rested against his thigh; still, it was much bigger than Arthur’s own. There was also hair growing around the base, something Arthur thought must be itchy, and didn’t look forward to. 

Merlin didn’t react at all when Arthur apprehensively cupped it in his much too small hand.

Feeling encouraged, Arthur curled his fingers around it a little tighter and looked down on the scroll again. He tugged careful and awkward a few times and inhaled sharply as Merlin did the same, and he felt the flesh under his fingers stiffen.

He placed both his hands on Merlin’s thighs, and bracing himself, he leant forward. The first lick was brief, hesitant, and experimental to the underside of the pink spongy bit that was now exposed at the tip, tasting. It didn’t taste bad, per se, just like skin. Salty and sort of what Arthur imagined how the sound of marching drums would taste like, if they had a taste. Arthur gave it another lick, this time over the top. His tongue dipped slightly into the slit – even saltier, and a little bitter – drawing a low moan from Merlin. 

Arthur looked up, but even though Merlin was panting slightly, he seemed to be asleep. Arthur wet his lips and ducked down again.

***

Licking as much of the fat pink head as possible, whilst keeping your teeth out of the way, turned out to require a lot of concentration. 

Which is probably why Arthur didn’t notice when Merlin woke up.

To be fair, Merlin didn’t notice waking up either, at first.

Merlin blinked up at the canopy over his bed, his thoughts foggy with arousal and sleep. Once he identified the wet heat as that of a mouth on his cock, his first thought was, “Well, Gwaine, this is taking it a bit far,” but the feeling of small hands pressing on his thighs had him very awake in seconds.

Looking down he saw Arthur lapping away and Merlin’s brain shut down for a very shaky moment. _Gods have mercy._ It was when Merlin’s hips gave a minuscule involuntary thrust into that welcoming heat that Merlin managed to snap out of it.

He sat up abruptly, dislodging Arthur’s sweet mouth from the tip of his cock. Arthur looked on, startled, as Merlin scrambled back until he was pressed against the headboard.

_Approach_ , Merlin thought bitterly, not laughing out of fear of being sick. _Should have known, Arthur never did do things by halves_.

“What are you doing?” Merlin rasped.

“I-I. Was it--?” Arthur blinked at him, looking down at a scroll lying next to him on the bed, then back up again. “Didn’t it feel good?” Arthur asked, absently wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

Merlin tugged self-consciously at his night shift, covering up. “I mean, _what are you doing?_ You can’t just-! Fucking hell, Arthur!”

Arthur flinched. He couldn’t remember Merlin ever swearing at him. Ever being mad enough.

“What? I-” Arthur tried, suddenly feeling very unsure. “I wanted to make you feel good. To show you that it’s okay.”

“It’s really not,” Merlin snapped.

“No, see, I love you intimately-”

“You don’t even know what the word means-”

“-I don’t know how to make apple pie, but Dagonet’s mother-”

“I, what are you-?”

“-can teach me,” Arthur babbled on. “And I don’t know how this,” he held up the open scroll and Merlin saw pictures, _bloody hell_ , “works, but if it is part of it, I can figure it out.”

“Oh, gods,” Merlin said, feeling like he was drowning. “Oh, hell.”

“Sometimes I think you mean more to me than father does – just, don’t tell him I said that – but if you were my wife that I’m not married to it would be-”

“Shut up, Arthur, please,” Merlin ground out, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. “You don’t know what you’re saying. You don’t know what you’re asking. Please, just leave.”

“I do know!” Arthur said, stubbornly, reaching out to grab at Merlin’s knee. “I’m asking you to be mine. I’m -”

When Arthur touched Merlin it was like something inside him tore open, raw and ugly, and Merlin closed his hand hard around Arthur’s upper arm, yanking him close.

“You are nothing but a stupid little boy,” Merlin snarled, right up in Arthur’s startled face, “and I’m telling you, you don’t know what you’re asking. Now, get the fuck out of my rooms, and don’t come back.” He gave Arthur a shove and he fell off the bed. Arthur scrambled to his feet and stared, eyes hot and stinging, as Merlin looked down on him.

Arthur remembered when he was four and a gambler had tried to stab Sir Gwaine in the middle of the market. Arthur had been right there with Merlin. Arthur remembered golden eyes as Merlin pulled his own shadow off the ground and made it descend upon the man with the knife.

Arthur had felt overwhelmed, but not afraid, because even though Merlin was all-powerful in his eyes, he would still always turn around, eyes blue and a silly grin in place.

Right now, Arthur couldn’t even recall what Merlin’s smile looked like.

“But, Merlin-” Arthur said with a sob.

“ _Get out!_ ” Merlin screamed. A vase with flowers – Gwen had helped Arthur pick them out last week – was smashed against the wall. “And don’t come back! Don’t you _dare_ come back!”

Arthur ran out the door as the heavy tomes in the bookshelf flew across the room.

Once back in his chambers Arthur locked the door from the inside, something he wasn’t supposed to do, and crawled onto the bed. Collapsing on top of the cover, boots still on, Arthur sobbed hard into his pillows, not knowing that across the caste he was being mirrored by Merlin.

 

~

 

Morgana didn’t know why she went in the direction of Arthur’s chambers first thing after breakfast, but she knew that it was where she should go. The charmed pendant around her neck kept the sights at bay, thanks to Merlin, but she still got— _impressions_ , she supposed they were. And this morning she felt urged to go see Arthur.

There was a maid outside Arthur’s door and she was knocking rapidly on the thick wood, “Sire, _please_ open the door.”

“What’s wrong?” Morgana asked, startling the maid.

“My lady,” she looked relieved. “Prince Arthur has locked the door, and he turned away breakfast an hour ago. But now he won’t answer.”

Morgana smiled kindly at her. “You may go, I’ll take care of this.”

“Yes, my lady,” she said with a curtsy, and left.

“Arthur, I’m going to open the door, all right?” Morgana waited for an answer before unlocking the door with magic when none came.

There wasn’t a fire in the hearth, as no-one had been let in to tend it. Nor were the candles lit, or the curtains drawn.

“Arthur?” Morgana called, entering the bedchamber. “You can’t possibly be sleeping at this hour.”

Seeing the bed curtains closed Morgana frowned and went to uncover the windows.

“Really, Arthur, are you sulking?” she said, letting the pale light of morning fall across the room. “That’s hardly like you.” She tugged the curtains away from the last window and went to stand in silence outside the velvet wall around the bed. Arthur wasn’t much for sulking, usually opting for a louder form of showing his displeasure. Last time, it was only been when Arthur had become older that he kept all his anger, sadness and disappointment to himself.

“Arthur? Didn’t you hear that Merlin came home yesterday?” she tried to coax. “Shall we go see him? He can tell you about his trip.”

It was when Arthur let out what sounded like a whimper that Morgana decided that enough was enough, and drew back the curtains with a flick of her wrist.

Arthur was curled around one of his gigantic pillows, lying facing her on top of the covers, still in his breeches and boots. He turned his face away, into the pillow, when she sat down on the edge of the bed. “What is it?” Morgana asked, hand coming to rest lightly on Arthur’s ankle. “Are you ill?”

Arthur shook his head, not looking up. Morgana noticed the mess on Arthur’s sleeve where he must have wiped his nose.

“Are you crying?”

Arthur did look up then. “No,” he said indignantly. “M’not.”

Morgana looked at his red rimmed eyes, belying his words. “You were crying earlier, though, weren’t you?” she asked. “Please, Arthur, tell me what happened so I can help you.”

Arthur’s face crumbled, like his resolve, and he scrambled over to Morgana and clung to her as he told her everything.

~

“I’ll accept the foetal position from Arthur, but this is just pathetic,” Morgana said as she looked down on Merlin on the bed. “Get up.”

Merlin reluctantly uncurled under the thin sheets and rolled over to give her a red eyed and piteous glare. “What?”

“I’ve just come from Arthur where I had to drag him out of bed,” she said. “He told me what happened yesterday.”

Merlin paled and rolled back again. “Oh.”

“Yes, _oh_ ,” Morgana agreed. “Honestly, I don’t know who I’m angrier with, you or Kay.”

Merlin jerked back around then. “ _Me_?” Merlin croaked. “I pushed him off as soon as I woke up!”

“Yes, you pushed him right off the bed and then you screamed at him and threw him out of your room.” Morgana said pointedly. “You scared him half to death. He thinks you’re going to do something.”

Merlin sat up abruptly. “Why would I-?”

“ _No_ ,” Morgana interrupted. “Do something, like, hurt him because you’re angry, do something.”

Merlin flopped back down on the bed.” I’d never hurt him.”

“He doesn’t know that,” Morgana snapped.

Merlin looked at her. 

“He should,” he said candidly, causing Morgana to pause before speaking.

“Arthur is a child,” she said finally. “If you shout at him he’ll think you’re angry with him. You need to talk to him, not lash out.”

“I panicked. I got scared, and I got angry, but not at him. Never at him,” said Merlin, sitting up.

“Who are you angry at, then?” Morgana asked. “Yourself?”

“Yes, no, I-” Merlin got off the bed, and opened the wardrobe. “I’m angry at Kay for running his mouth. I’m angry at the gods for dropping their knickers as soon as someone mentions the words ‘Arthur’ and ‘trade’. I’m angry that a girl wasted her life to meddle in other people’s business. And I’m angry that I can’t seem to stop loving him.”

Morgana was quiet as Merlin picked out his clothes.

“Will you talk to him?” she asked as he stepped behind the screen.

“I guess, I have to,” Merlin replied. “I’ll just talk to Kay first.”

“No, dear, I think I had better do that.”

“What?” Merlin said, looking out from behind the screen. “Why?”

“Because Kay’s an idiot, but I’m pretty sure he didn’t mean any harm,” Morgana said calmly. “And I don’t think I can trust you not to separate his delicates from his body.”

“Well,” Merlin said with a flash of dark humour. “You know what they call the knight’s in the kitchens.”

“Merlin--”

“Fine,” Merlin conceded. “Have fun. Just don’t forget this.” Merlin walked over to the bed, shrugging into his jerkin as he reached for a scroll on the floor. Morgana raised an eyebrow at him as he handed it over with a sardonic grin.

“Oh!” Morgana said as she unrolled it. “Well.”

“Didn’t you know that Kay makes the most excellent drawings?” Merlin snorted.

“I’m just wondering how he knows how draw such an... accurate example of male genitalia from _this_ angle,” Morgana said a little wondering, tilting both the scroll and her head to the side.

“Considering it’s Kay, I think it is best not to know,” Merlin sighed.

~~~

Arthur was crossing the courtyard when Merlin found him, Bedivere trailing him lazily not far behind.

“Morning Merlin,” Bedivere greeted as he caught up with them. At the sound of Merlin’s name Arthur flinched, stumbled and almost fell over in his hurry to turn around. He yelped as he laid eyes on Merlin.

“Morning. Um, Arthur, can I talk to you for a moment?” Merlin said awkwardly.

“No, I’m sorry,” Arthur said, backing up. “I’ll stay away, I promise.”

“Arthur-”

“I promise, I’m sorry,” Arthur said, voice going up as he stared at the flagstones. “Please just-”

“Arthur,” Merlin said tightly. “I’d _never_ hurt you. I just need to talk, to explain-”

Arthur, clearly not listening, turned around and sprinted away over the courtyard. “Bollocks,” Merlin sighed.

“..Is this about what Kay told him yesterday?” Bedivere asked tentatively.

Merlin gave him a wide eyed glare. “You were there? Why didn’t you stop him?”

“We tried,” Bedivere said, looking uncomfortable. “But then he started talking, well, you know how convincing he can be.”

“You lot, sometimes I worry,” Merlin rolled his eyes as he headed off after Arthur. “Seriously.”

Arthur was sitting behind the lance rack in the armoury when Merlin came in. Merlin closed the door behind him and sat down slowly on the other side of the rack. “Arthur?”

“I’m sorry,” Arthur said immediately.

“Yeah, I know,” Merlin sighed. “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have shouted. I want you to know that I’m not angry.”

“You seemed angry,” Arthur said.

“Do I seem angry now?” Merlin asked quietly.

There was a pause and Arthur drew in a shaky breath. “No.”

“Exactly,” Merlin said. “I’m sorry I shouted, I should have explained, but you, you _surprised_ me.” 

Merlin moved closer to the rack when Arthur didn’t say anything. “What you, um, what you did,” Merlin cleared his throat awkwardly. “It’s not something you should do, for lots of reasons. I’m much, much too old, for a start. And you’re too young to even think about that.”

“I--” Arthur said finally. “I’m sorry. I thought you loved me.”

Merlin felt his heart do something uncomfortable in his chest. “ _Oh_ , Arthur,” he said, reaching between the lances to stroke his thumb over Arthur’s wet cheek. “I do love you. Believe me, I do. But regardless of how I feel, us, you and me, we can’t be like that.”

“But why?” Arthur asked. “I want you to be mine. I want to mean as much to you as you mean to me.”

“Gods, Arthur, you mean more to me than you will ever know,” Merlin said with a bitter laugh. “I don’t know how I can make you understand.”

“Because I’m a stupid little boy?” Arthur asked, hurt.

“Yes,” Merlin said after a pause, causing Arthur’s head to snap up. “Because you are a stupid little boy, and that’s alright. You’re meant to be a stupid little boy, and climb trees, and go on adventures in the stables, and play knights with Dagonet. You’re not meant to worry about love, and getting your heart broken. Not yet.”

Arthur didn’t say anything, he just looked at his knees, biting the inside of his cheek. “Do you—do you know what I mean?” Merlin tried.

Arthur nodded slowly. “Doesn’t seem fair.”

“No,” Merlin agreed. “It doesn’t.”

“Father said, though,” Arthur said suddenly, wiping his eyes with his sleeves. “Father said that we can be together when I come of age.”

“Yeah?” Merlin huffed. “Do you know why he said that?”

Arthur shook his head.

“‘Cause he knows as well as I do, that you won’t love me, then,” Merlin said kindly.

“Are you sure?” Arthur asked uncertainly. 

“Very,” Merlin confirmed. “Now, do you feel like coming out from there?”

“Um, yeah,” Arthur said with another nod. Merlin watched silently as he crawled out from behind the lance rack and scooted until he was a foot away. “I- can I, um.”

“What?” Merlin blinked.

“I mean, would it be alright to hug?” Arthur mumbled.

“Oh!” Merlin said, startled. He reached out and drew Arthur in. “Arthur, that is absolutely fine. As often as you want. Whenever you want them.”

Arthur curled in, burrowing his face in Merlin’s neck. “You’re my favourite, Merlin,” he said.

“Favourite what?” Merlin chuckled. Arthur shrugged in his hold and didn’t seem inclined to move anytime soon.


	3. Chapter 3

Uther died a year, almost on the day, after Gaius.

Arthur stood, in black funeral garb, as people held speeches, trying to bite back his sobs, only a few slipping out into the great hall. Morgana’s hand was a comfort on his shoulder, but Arthur was still a nine year old boy who just lost his father.

~

Later, when Uther had been laid to rest next to Igraine under the castle, Merlin found Arthur in his chambers with Dagonet. “How is he?” he asked.

“He’s a right blubbering mess,” Dagonet said from where he was draped over Arthur’s back on the bed, huffing when Arthur elbowed him in the ribs. “Ow. See if I comfort you again if you’re going to be like that.”

“You’re not comforting me,” Arthur croaked. “You’re just crushing me like some kind of useless lump.”

“Mate,” Dagonet laughs. “I _am_ a useless lump.”

“No,” Arthur says quickly, affectionate. “No, you’re not.”

He tangled his fingers in Dagonet’s, where they were resting right on top of his. Merlin looked at the wall over their heads, not thinking about a time when Arthur’s startling fits of affection were directed at him. A time when Dagonet’s look of surprise and amusement could be found on his own face. Merlin was contemplating leaving when Dagonet untangled himself, sitting up.

“I have to go anyway, they’re asking basically everyone to help out in the kitchens,” Dagonet frowned in that peculiar way he had, bringing eyes and eyebrows and shoulders into it. “Sorry, but since _Lord_ Merlin and the Lady Morgana just have to be crowned regents in a sea of decadent food, I gave to go.”

“You watch your tone or I’ll put you in the stocks,” Merlin laughed lightly and pinched Dagonet’s ear as he got off the bed.

“So sorry, your Majesty,” he gave a deep bow. “Won’t happen again.”

“Colour me doubtful.”

Dagonet gave Arthur’s leg a pat. “See you later Arthur?”

“Yeah, see you,” Arthur said, face still pressed into the bedcovers. Dagonet left reluctantly and Merlin looked at Arthur in silence.

“Well,” Arthur said after a while, sitting up. “Can I use you as a pillow or not?”

Merlin huffed. “Is that you asking?”

Arthur shrugged, not looking at him even Merlin had toed off his boots and got on the bed. He waited until Merlin lay down, then he snuggled against his side. As Arthur placed his fingers against Merlin’s collarbone – five burning points in a cold space – he sort of wishes Arthur hadn’t put his ear right over Merlin’s heart.

“I feel like I’m being silly,” Arthur said quietly.

“How do you mean?” Merlin asked, eyes closing due to this being the first time he had been properly still in weeks, and it was catching up to him.

“It’s just,” Arthur tried. “It’s just that, I’ve had my father for thirty years, and that’s more than some get, but because I don’t remember, it feels like I haven’t had enough time.” 

Merlin laid his arm across Arthur’s back. “You’re not being silly, Arthur,” Merlin said. “It’s understandable. When people lose loved ones it will always feel too soon, be it nine years, or fifty.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. I only knew my father for a few days, I didn’t really know him at all, but it still tore me up inside when he died,” Merlin said, remembering the feeling of Balinor becoming dead weight in his arms. “I think that when it comes to parents, you’re allowed to feel however you want to feel about it, and it wouldn’t be silly.”

“But it’s strange,” Arthur said. “I feel lonely, even though I know I’m not. I have Morgana, and Gwen and Lancelot, and when their baby is born I’ll have him too. I have the knights. I have Dagonet,” he paused. “And I have you.”

“Yeah,” Merlin smiled. “You have me.”

Arthur made a noise as if he was about to say something, then didn’t. He took a deep breath, and then let it out again, quietly. 

When he started doing it for the third time Merlin laughed. “Arthur, what is it?”

“When was the last time we laid like this?” Arthur asked right away.

“Hmm,” Merlin mused. “Eleven days ago, I think.” Uther had had one of his last lucid days, and had insisted on saying goodbye to his son and ward. When Uther had gone back to sleep, Morgana’s hands clenched in the bed covers, Merlin carried Arthur back to his room and Arthur’s fingers on his sleeve had stopped him from leaving.

“N-no, I meant,” Arthur said quietly. “The last time, before--”

Merlin’s eyes snapped open and his whole body tensed. “Arthur-”

“I haven’t asked, ‘cause I know you don’t want me to,” Arthur said. “I haven’t pressed or brought it up in three years. Can I just have this one thing?”

Merlin let his eyes slip shut again and made himself relax into the pillows.

“I was so tired,” Merlin said, voice low. “There were no fires burning but I could still make out the canopy. I’d only just gone to bed but the sun was rising. I’d been up for days, trying to make Morgana’s protective pendant more effective, she’d been having nightmares for a week. I was so tired.

“You were warm against my side, almost purring when I ran my fingers through your hair.” Merlin’s fingers curled lightly into the soft locks at the base of Arthur’s skull. “I couldn’t sleep. I was so very tired but I just couldn’t.”

“Why?” 

“I was worried. Morgana’s dreams always meant something, and she couldn’t remember what they had been about. I didn’t know that that would be the day you were cursed. But I couldn’t sleep. And you were lying there at dawn and you said, ‘ _stop thinking so much_ ’ and I said I couldn’t. So you said, ‘ _sleep, Merlin, or I’ll knock you out_ and then you tilted your head up--” Merlin stopped, filling wrung out, feeling Arthur warm against his side. Feeling tired.

“And then?” Arthur said, lifting his head off of Merlin’s heart. Merlin felt the bed dip under Arthur’s elbow and felt his fingers curl against Merlin’s collarbone.

“And you leant in,” he said, cutting himself off again.

“Did I kiss you?” Arthur asked, warm breath ghosting over Merlin’s cheek. “Did I kiss you goodbye without knowing?”

Merlin didn’t open his eyes. He didn’t say anything.

He let Arthur press his soft lips against his, for two seconds. Two seconds was still two too many.

“Arthur,” Merlin said as he turned his head away. “Don’t.”

Arthur slid off of his chest as Merlin sat up. “I love you,” Arthur said simply. “I think I really do.”

“Yeah,” Merlin said, glaring at the wall as Arthur stood on his knees on the bed to drape over Merlin’s back, gripping his shoulders. “I got that.”

“Fa - _father_ said that we can be together when I’m king,” Arthur said, fumbling. “But you’re regent now. You’re practically king. So you can do whatever you want. And I know that you want this.”

“Whatever I want?” Merlin asked, twisting to look at Arthur. “Alright.”

Arthur blinked, looking torn between shock and excitement. “Really?”

“Whatever I want and you can’t complain,” Merlin said.

“Yes,” Arthur said, smiling brightly in contrast to his still red eyes. His fingers clenching repeatedly in his tunic.

“You have to promise me you won’t object,” Merlin pressed.

“Yes, I promise, I swear,” Arthur said readily.

“Good,” Merlin said, kissed Arthur’s forehead, got of the bed, and walked out the door.

~

“You tricked me,” Arthur said sullenly, two days later, at the feast after the coronation ceremony. 

Arthur had smuggled Dagonet to stand next to him at the front of the room as the circlets had been placed on Morgana’s and Merlin’s heads. It had been the cause of much tittering and amusement. Even more so now that he had asked Morgana to dance with him. She was currently being twirled across the room by a very enthusiastic Dagonet.

Merlin had a content smile on his lips as he looked down at Arthur. “I’d say you tricked yourself,” Merlin said, a little apologetic. “Sorry. Are you terribly angry?”

“No,” Arthur said frankly. “I shouldn’t have done that. I wouldn’t have, but I was feeling - ”

“You don’t have to explain, Arthur,” Merlin said with a, perhaps a little relieved, laugh. He understood that Arthur had been upset and tried to reach out. It was just unfortunate that _that_ had been the comfort he had reached for.

“When are you going to give in?” Arthur asked and tugged lightly on Merlin’s fingers.

“When are you going to give up?” Merlin countered, pinching at Arthur’s fingers in retaliation. “And stop that, I’m supposed to look regal.” His hand went to briefly touch the thin crown on his head, matching Morgana’s. They were silver ones that Merlin had forged with magic as Morgana didn’t want to wear Igraine’s crown, and Merlin had felt that Uther’s should be stored until Arthur was ready for it. 

“Just stop fidgeting,” Arthur said, bumping Merlin’s thigh with his elbow. “You look nice.”

“Mmhmm, sure,” Merlin laughed.

“No, really,” Arthur insisted. “You’ve always looked very regal, so don’t worry.”

“Of course,” Merlin nodded with a grin, not looking at him. “Regal, that’s me. Always.”

“Are – are you mocking me?” Arthur asked incredulously.

Merlin couldn’t stop a barking laugh from slipping out. “No. Honestly, I’m not,” he said, shaking his head. “Sometimes I just wish you could hear yourself talk.”

“What?” Arthur looked perplexed.

“Nothing, really, it’s nothing,” Merlin tried valiantly to wrestle his grin under control. “Look, why don’t you go save Morgana from Dagonet?”

Arthur peered at Merlin suspiciously for a moment. “I know what you’re doing,” he said. “But I will, only to tell her you thought she needed saving. I bet she’ll love that.” 

He set off before Merlin’s face had fully changed to match the horror he felt.

~~~

“Fuck off,” Dagonet laughed, shoving at Arthur’s shoulder. Arthur rolled with it and shoved back, sending Dagonet sprawling back in the grass.

“I’m serious,” Arthur said.

“Yes, I can tell, but you’re off your horse, mate,” Dagonet sat back up, bumping his shoulder with Arthur’s. “I’m not a bloody noble.”

“You’re not?” Arthur said in mock surprise. “But you have such an air of nobility.”

“Oh, shut up,” Dagonet chortled.

“No, really,” Arthur continued. “Just everything about you. From the way you walk to the way you talk, to the way you’re half covered in mud. You do have a very royal way of wrestling with the dogs, I must say.”

“ _Stop_. I’m going to piss me self!” Dagonet barked, falling back on the grass once more.

“There you go again,” said Arthur. “Even when rolling around on the grass and pissing yourself you have a certain sense of dignity. You simply must be meant for knighthood.”

“Maybe I should take you to the physician, you’re clearly ill.”

“ _Dag_ onet,” Arthur said, waiting for him to meet his eyes. “You’ve been training with me since we were children, now that we’re finally fourteen we can be knights in training.”

“You mean squires?” Dagonet pointed out drolly.

“I prefer ‘knights in training’,” Arthur said brightly.

“Well, Arthur,” Dagonet said with a crooked smile. “Sir Dagonet of The Kitchen doesn’t have all that nice a ring to it.”

“You know that doesn’t make a difference, hasn’t for years,” Arthur argued.

“Yeah, but, excluding Gwaine, Lancelot and Elyan are the only peasant knights so far, “Dagonet pointed out. “Four years. Two knights.”

“And in two more there’ll be a third,” Arthur said simply. “No-one looks down on them.”

“I don’t care what people think. That’s not it,” Dagonet said. “It’s just that maybe I’m not meant for it.”

Dagonet stared hard at Arthur, and Arthur stared right back. Eventually Dagonet sighed and sat up.

“Give me a good reason,” he said.

“I’m afraid of doing it on my own, and I can’t imagine anyone I’d rather have do it with me, than you,” Arthur said with a tight smile. Dagonet blinked at him, then he was leaning in, touching his lips to Arthur’s. He was drawing back again before Arthur could react.

“Did you just kiss me?” Arthur asked dumbly.

“Yeah, what of it?” Dagonet replied and looked at something that certainly wasn’t Arthur.

“Why would you-?”

Dagonet shrugged. “Wanted to.”

“Dag,” Arthur said, slowly and slightly apologetic. “You know that I’m-”

“Yeah, I know,” Dagonet laughed mirthlessly. “I’ve been with you every step of your failed attempts of seduction. Which have all _failed_ , in case you missed that.”

Arthur frowned at Dagonet who still wasn’t quite looking at him. “Then why would you-?”

“Oh my god,” Dagonet cut him off again. “I didn’t mean anything by it. _Fuck_.” He got to his feet and took a couple of steps with the air of someone who didn’t really know why they were walking. He stopped and turned on the spot to give Arthur a contemplative look. “You want me to be a knight, huh?”

Arthur didn’t say anything, just sat silently on the sun warmed grass.

“Do you know what that they call knights in the kitchens?” Dagonet asked suddenly.

Arthur did a double take, obviously thrown by the turn in the conversation. “Um, what?” he said, at a loss. “No, I don’t.”

“Right. Guess I’ll be your knight, then, my lord,” Dagonet bowed and walked off across the grass. Arthur didn’t move, feeling like he’d just dropped something fragile to the floor but it didn’t break.

~~~

Next time Arthur saw Dagonet, he tossed Arthur a grin and a stolen apple and everything was fine. Arthur was more than happy to leave it, just thankful that whatever it was, was over.

~~~~~

Arthur turned slowly on the spot, focused on the edges of the glade, trying to catch any movements. He could feel the warlock watching him, could feel it itching over his skin. The thin chain of his necklace dug into his neck, weighed down by the colourful stones. The sword in his hands felt hot.

The sound of a branch snapping almost made Arthur jump and the turned to face it. The red and yellow wolf was much bigger than ordinary ones, and the grass and leaves under its paws crackled with the heat.

“Right,” Arthur said, taking the bright red stone on his necklace and pressed it over his heart with his palm. “Come on then!”

The wolf charged straight for him, kicking up sparks in it’s wake, and Arthur raised his sword and cried out, “Forbærne!” and

And Merlin appeared between the blade and the beast and the world froze. 

Arthur watched unmoving as Merlin touched the wolf and it turned to ash. He stumbled as he could suddenly move again. “What the hell, Merlin?”

“I could ask you the same,” Merlin said, facing him. “You just tried to use fire against fire.”

“Yes?” Arthur nodded. “And?”

“ _And_ , if you want to put out a candle, do you throw fire at it?” Merlin demanded, annoyed.

Arthur took a slow breath in realization. “No.”

“No, you don’t, do you?” Merlin went on. “So why would it work now?”

“I’m sorry, but this is hard to remember,” Arthur said, looking at the ground.

“There are only four elements, Arthur, it’s not that hard,” Merlin snapped.

“I’m sorry,” Arthur ground out.

Arthur didn’t look up but he could feel Merlin looking at him again. Merlin sighed.

“No, Arthur, I’m sorry,” he said and Arthur risked a glance at him through his lashes. “I’m just nervous. The thought of you fighting at all will always make me worry. And now magic--”

“As future king of a magical accepting kingdom I feel it is my duty to know at least a few spells,” Arthur said, standing up straighter, raising his head. He noted that Merlin had _that_ look on his face and Arthur resisted the urge to squirm. “Besides, we barley spend any time together anymore, you’re so busy in court with the treaties you are trying to get signed. It thought it might be nice.”

Merlin gave a self-deprecating smile. “Then I guess I sort of ruined that by yelling.”

“I think I sort of ruined that by being pants at magic,” Arthur said with a smile of his own. “I don’t even have magic, just words and the stones, which you made.” He pulled at the chain around his neck.

“Let’s take a break, hm?” Merlin said tugging lightly at Arthur’s shoulder. 

Arthur let himself fall against Merlin’s side, turning so that Merlin’s arm was lying against his shoulders. “Can we go see Excalibur?”

Merlin chuckled. “Yeah, of course.”

~~~

The stone seemed to stand in a ray of light, like always, and it was strangely free of moss. Excalibur stood shining, brilliantly and rust-less.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Arthur said, resting his hand on the unnaturally warmed rock. Merlin hummed in agreement. “How did you place it in the rock, again?”

“Arthur, you’ve heard this hundreds of times,” Merlin said with amusement, answering anyway. “I simply let the blade melt the rock and then cooled it so that it would be stuck in place. But that was the easy part. The goddess of this forest helped me place a spell so that no-one but its rightful king can remove it.”

"And that’s me,” Arthur said quietly, letting his fingers touch the air around the hilt. “Do you think I could take it out now?”

“You probably could, but I wish you wouldn’t,” Merlin said.

“Why?” Arthur asked, letting his hand drop. "It’s mine, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it’s yours,” Merlin said, stepping to stand next to Arthur, reaching out and touching the hilt. “But this is the most powerful sword ever to have been made. I want you to at least get your knighthood before you reclaim it.”

“So, I’m too young,” Arthur said, not a question. “That’s a surprise.”

“Arthur--” Merlin let his hand fall to Arthur’s nape.

“Can we go home?” Arthur said, moving away from the touch.

Merlin bit his lip before nodding, jerkily. “Sure, let’s go home.”

~~~~~

Merlin was staring into the flames without really seeing them. He didn’t feel the table quiver under his palm, nor did he hear the glass in the windows shudder. When Morgana put her hand on his shoulder he jerked hard and the flames died in the hearth.

“Oh,” he said.

“The stable boys told the stable master who told the steward who told me that you are worrying the horses. Calm down,” Morgana said, firm, but soothing.

“It’s Olwin,” Merlin sighed heavily, coxing the fire to burn again with a gesture. “He’s doing it out of spite.”

“You think he’d endanger his people by refusing to sign the treaty three times out of spite?” Morgana asked dubiously. Merlin just looked at her. “Fine, maybe.”

“I don’t want to go to war,” Merlin said slowly, putting a certain weight on the words.

“You would wait until he brings the battle to our doorstep?” Morgana asked reasonably.

“Is that what he would do?” Merlin wondered.

“Honestly, Merlin, you don’t need the sight to see where this is heading,” she said, patronizing in the special way that she had which somehow came out fond.

Merlin groaned and tipped his head back against the chair, palms rubbing over his eyes. “It just feels like we’ve failed, you know?” he said. “If we go to war.”

Morgana trailed behind his chair and began kneading his shoulders. He yelped when she dug her thumb into the base of his skull. “Kingdoms go to war,” she sighed. “Man up.”

“Ow,” Merlin said, pointedly. Morgana just hummed and pushed his head forward so that she could work out the knots in his neck.

“Arthur’s going to want to fight,” she said after a while and suddenly Merlin felt a whole lot tenser.

“Well, he can’t,” he said firmly.

“Oh, I agree. I’m not saying he should,” Morgana said. “I’m just saying that he will want to.”

“He’s fifteen, so, not a knight. So, not fighting,” Merlin said, closing his eyes. “Maybe we can start another war for him next year.”

“He’ll appreciate that,” Morgana laughed.

“I had sort of hoped that he wouldn’t be a knight this time,” Merlin said dryly. “What was I thinking?”

“You know what they call the knights in the kitchens,” Morgana said lightly.

“Morgana,” Merlin chastised. Her hands stilled before sliding down to rest over his breastbone.

“Sorry,” she said into his hair.

Merlin laid his hands over hers. “I’m glad I have you, Morgana,” he said. “I was never meant to rule.”

“You’re doing fine,” Morgana said, gently. “With some help.”

Merlin was laughing when the door swung open.

“Merlin, is it true about that bastard Olwin-?” Arthur said before coming to a sudden halt in the doorway. His hair was damp with rain and he was still in his hunting gear. He must have heard the stable boys talking as he rode in and come to Merlin’s chambers straight away.

Arthur blinked at them and let out a small breathy laugh. “Right,” he said. His eyes were trained on Morgana as she straightened up, hands slipping to the back of the chair. 

“Merlin, are we going to war?” he asked, his head moving towards Merlin a moment before his eyes did.

“I’m afraid so,” Merlin said tiredly. “But not now, maybe not in months.”

“I’m coming with you” Arthur said quickly.

“Arthur, you’re not a knight yet,” Morgana said, sparing Merlin the battle. “Even if you were to go along, you wouldn’t be fighting.”

“Merlin,” Arthur demanded, not giving Morgana a glance.

Merlin met his gaze evenly without saying anything. Arthur snarled and slammed the door as he left the rooms. Morgana blinked at the closed door as Merlin hunched in his seat, putting his head in his hands.

“What was that?” she said, going round the chair to look Merlin in the eye. “Merlin, is he still-?”

“He thinks he is,” said Merlin with a plaintive laugh, letting his hands fall to his lap.

“Nine years, though,” Morgana said with a raised eyebrow. “There must be something more than conviction to it.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Merlin sighed.

“How can it not matter?” Morgana demanded incredulously. “Merlin, if he actually _loves_ you-”

“Then _what_?” Merlin said, getting to his feet. “I’m old enough to be his father.”

“But you’re not, Merlin. We are not his parents,” Morgana argued.

“Sometimes it sure feels like it. Look, I’ve loved, and I’ve lost. I will always love Arthur, but _he_ ,” Merlin said, gesturing at the door. “He’s just a boy, he has his whole life to find someone to love. Someone suitable, perhaps. Someone _not me_.”

“I’m not saying that you should take him to your bed tonight,” Morgana said, making the tips of Merlin’s ears flush. “But when he’s not a boy anymore, will you still deny him your affections?”

“I don’t know, Morgana,” Merlin said, dragging his fingers over his eyes. “Please leave me, I’m going to bed.”

“You know, the people used to say that it was your love that would unite the land,” Morgana said as she stepping through the door. “It’s funny. Last week I heard a girl in the lower town say the same thing.”

~~

Dagonet took another drink from the large skin with un-watered wine – the second one tonight - before passing it on to Arthur who was sitting silently fuming. Arthur drank from it stiffly, no-longer frowning at the taste.

“Look, we can both sit here and get as pissed as you want and I won’t ask any questions,” Dagonet said, leaning on Arthur where they both sat on the cot in his small room. “But if you don’t tell me what’s wrong, I can’t help you, can I?”

“Merlin cares enough about me to keep me away from danger, but he doesn’t seem to care enough to _not_ keep me away from _him_ ,” Arthur said harshly, leaning back against Dagonet.

“What danger?” Dagonet asked, focusing on the entirely wrong thing. 

“Camelot will be going to war with that Olwin dickhead,” Arthur explained. “And since I have yet to be knighted, I can’t come along.”

“War,” Dagonet said stiffly. “I think he’s right; you shouldn’t go before you’re ready.”

Arthur shot him a look. “He’s doing this for the wrong reasons, though. He’s not my bloody father,” he said harshly. “I think he’s realized that I can’t-- That I’m--”

Dagonet blinked at him. “What?” he said, perplexed.

“I’m trying, I’m doing my best,” he drew in an unsteady breath. “But I think he _knows_ -”

“Hey. Hey, mate,” Dagonet said, tugging at a reluctant Arthur. “It doesn’t matter, whatever it is. It doesn’t matter.”

Arthur made a sudden noise and pressed his face to Dagonet’s neck, causing him to tense up.

“Sometimes,” Arthur mumbled, quiet and precious like confessions should be. “Sometimes I wish I could have loved you instead, y’know. ‘Cause when you kissed me-”

“Arthur, I told you, it didn’t mean anything.”

“I don’t care what it meant, you kissed me,” Arthur said, nuzzling at where Dagonet’s shoulder met his neck, “You kissed _me_. Just me. You didn’t know me the first time around. Just now. There’s no omnipresent past that one of us can’t remember. No baggage that drags us down.” 

_You don’t have expectations I can’t meet_ , Arthur though. _I don’t disappoint you by being myself._

“But you don’t love me,” Dagonet said simply, the corners of his mouth quirking upwards.

“ _Yes I do_ ,” Arthur snapped against his skin.

“But you’re not _in love_ with me,” he laughs.

“If I were,” Arthur said, head coming up, wobbly, like it wasn’t attached to his neck properly. “Tell you what, though, if I were, we’d be shining.”

Dagonet smiled at the soft look on Arthur’s face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, like the stars and the lights that lead weary men home after battle,” Arthur said, hands gently holding Dagonet’s jaw. “We’d shine like metal in the sun.”

“Well,” Dagonet huffed, placing a palm on Arthur’s wrist. “If this ruler of the realm lark doesn’t work out for you, you could always give poetry a go. You just have to be pissed the entire time-” and then Arthur kissed him, and Dagonet let him. Arthur was thinking about Dagonet, and Dagonet’s lips, he really was, but then he recalled another pair, not as soft, but fuller, and then Dagonet was turning his head. “Um--”

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Arthur swore, resting his forehead against Dagonet’s temple. He ran one hand in clumsy soothing motions along Dagonet’s neck and shoulder. “I’m – I’m so sorry. I thought you, _fuck_. Why do I do this to everyone I care about?”

Dagonet turned his head so that their foreheads were touching. “Hey, now. It’s not that I don’t—I do, it’s just. Y’know. And you’ve had a bit to drink.”

Arthur huffed out a strained laugh and let his hand slip from Dagonet as he flopped down on the bed, throwing an arm over his eyes. “I’m so unbelievably sick of people being noble.”

After a moment Arthur asked, slowly. “I’m not in love. But I love you. Can’t that be enough?”

He felt the bed dip, and lifted his arm to look at Dagonet as he braced himself on his elbows over Arthur.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Can it?”

Arthur’s arm hooked around Dagonet’s neck and he tugged, and Dagonet followed.

It was intense, even through the haze. Arthur wouldn’t remember much apart from the hot slide of a tongue against his own. Fingerprints being left on skin. And _tighttighttigh_. He was too far gone in the intimate heat of Dagonet to know or care why Dagonet’s hand was sealed over his mouth suddenly. He just knew that when they both came back down, Dagonet pulling him impossibly closer, Arthur still clasped inside, Dagonet bent his head and said, “I guess it can’t,” gently against Arthur’s cheek.


	4. Chapter 4

Arthur had only been sixteen for a couple of weeks when he and Dagonet rode to join the battle in Olwin’s kingdom. Dagonet had been knighted one month earlier, when he became sixteen, but he had of course waited for Arthur. 

Merlin had greeted them personally as they arrived at the camp, mud smeared and obviously tired, but warm grin in place none the less.

From the reports Morgana had received it was very clear that they were going to win the war, and that Olwin was just wasting resources and good men. 

They were going to win the war. 

Arthur repeated that to himself as he stood on one edge of the battle field, watching Olwin’s army assemble on the other. Dagonet turned his head to smile wryly at him as Merlin gestured for them to march forward, Arthur huffed around a grin and gripped Excalibur more tightly in his hand, ready to face anything with his friend by his side. 

Excalibur sang as it sailed through the air, feeling more like an extension of him than a separate object. 

The first few minutes Arthur barely noticed the chaos and destruction because of the magic rushing in his ears as he tried the blade’s loyalty for the time. It soon caught up to him however and he had to charge and deflect and push through the green army.

Arthur was sure that he had never feared for his life so, nor felt as alive. There was a fire in his blood and it only cooled afterwards when Merlin placed a palm on his neck peering at him whilst trying to catch his breath.

“Are you alright? Are you unharmed?” 

“Yes,” Arthur laughed, gripping Merlin’s shoulder and leaning up to press his forehead against Merlin’s. “ _Yes_ , never been better, my lord.”

Then Gwaine was there thumping him on his back and pulling him away, letting Merlin return to his obligations.

“We’re going to win,” he told Dagonet later than evening in front of a small fire, the smoke drifting out through a hole in the tent, gripping Dagonet’s fingers between his own. 

Dagonet beamed at him, warm and happy, saying “My king” in what they could both pass away as a teasing tone.

~~~

It’s too good to last, of course. War isn’t glorious, and the gods aren’t watching, and their side isn’t protected. People break, and good men die. Friends get taken, and heroes leave. 

And six months later Arthur is sitting on the ground, staring at Kay’s cooling funeral pyre, thinking of how little a thing it is that can decide a person’s life. The truth from a knight, the stubbornness of a child, and Arthur was destined to be miserable. Miserable and ruined.

And very soon alone.

“Arthur,” Merlin said, squeezing his shoulder. “Why are you out here? Why aren’t you with Dagonet?”

“Just saying my last goodbyes to Sir Kay. Besides, I can’t go in there,” Arthur sighed tiredly. “Not when he’s looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know,” Arthur said. “That’s why it’s bothering me.”

“Listen,” Merlin said, crouching down next to Arthur. “He’s feverish. He’s probably confused and scares. You should-”

“Do you know what they call the knights in the kitchens?” Arthur asked suddenly, looking at Merlin. Merlin almost fell on his arse as he jerked away.

“I can’t believe you just said that,” he mumbled as he got to his feet, taking a step away from Arthur. “Why would you even say that?”

“What? I--” Arthur twisted around to give Merlin a bemused look. “It’s what Dagonet asks every time he’s lucid. But I don’t know, so he pretends to sleep until I go away.” He got up and advanced on Merlin. “Why? Do you know what they’re called?”

Merlin blinked. “Well, it’s- They’re not called anything, really. Not anymore. They used to be called ferrymen, like in Greek myth. There’s a man that take the souls of the dead in his ferry across the river Styx. When they get to the other side the souls move on, and the ferryman stays. He’s not dead, but he’s not alive either,” Merlin paused, frowning. “Camelot lost many good knights in a very short time, eighteen or so years ago, so in the kitchens they started calling them ferrymen because they might die any day. Of course, it’s not like that anymore, Cendred was defeated and Morgause disappeared, so they’re not called ferrymen by anyone. But when you ask someone what they’re called in the kitchen you’re more or less saying, ‘You know that knights don’t live very long, don’t you?’”

“Oh _hell_ ,” Arthur laughed, a harsh sound, almost cruel. “When I told him I wanted him to be a knight with me, he said that. But I didn’t know so I asked him anyway.”

“Arthur,” Merlin said firmly. “This isn’t your fault. Everyone fighting in this war is here by choice. You’re not-”

“He loves me,” Arthur said, quick like a whip crack, and Merlin flinched like it had been. “Did you know that? He really truly does.”

“I, ah--” Merlin said, pausing briefly to wet his lips. “I’m not surprised. I almost expected it, you’ve always been very close, I just didn’t realize. I’m glad, though-”

“Oh,” Arthur interrupted with a breathy laugh. “That’s nice, but we’re not together, him and I.” Arthur would have liked to say that Merlin looked relieved, but he just looked bemused. “Well,” Arthur drawled, that cruel tone clawing to the surface again. “I fucked him once, about a year ago. I was drunk and angry, he was drunk and in love. A dangerous combination, wouldn’t you agree?

“It didn’t change anything. We’ve never acted as if it didn’t happen, and we don’t regret it. I’ve never reached for him again, and if I did I don’t think he’d let me. He might not always love me, but he does now. And he knows that I will always belong to someone else.”

Merlin closed his eyes and took a slow, deep breath through the nose, probably counting to ten before speaking. “Why are you telling me this?”

“You’re my world, Merlin, but I can’t lose him. I can’t--” he broke off, before his voice could.

“I’m doing what I can,” Merlin said. “But he needs you right now, not me.” Arthur didn’t answer, just brushed past Merlin, leaving him behind with Kay’s dying embers.

~~~

Arthur clenched his jaw as he stepped into the tent. He could only just see Dagonet lying behind a thin veil on the other side of the tent. He went over and took a seat next to the cot.

“Dagonet,” Arthur said softly and tried to smile as Dagonet blinked awake.

“Mmm?” he hummed dazedly. “‘M sorry Arthur, I nodded off. Were you saying something terribly interesting?”

“You’re not going to die,” Arthur said. Dagonet just looked at him blankly. “You’re not going to die so I don’t care about ferrymen and kitchen sayings.”

“Well done,” Dagonet said, pausing to cough twice violently. “Only took you two and a half years.”

“Why did you become a knight if you--?” Arthur didn’t know how to finish that sentence and let it hang, just hoping Dagonet didn’t think it sounded as desperate as it did to Arthur. “Was it because I asked-?”

“You said ‘I’m scared to do it alone.’ No bluster and bravado, I didn’t have the heart to say no. Besides, you needed someone to have your back, and I didn’t trust anyone else with that job.”

There was a palpable silence, only disrupted by Dagonet’s wet breathing.

“How are you feeling?” Arthur asked finally.

Dagonet grinned. “All smiles and sunshine now that you’re here.”

“And in the real world?” Arthur insisted with an eyebrow raised.

“Like I’m drowning on dry land,” Dagonet said with a sigh that sent him into another coughing fit. “And I ha- have yet to see a single mermaid. Bloody liars, the Greek, I’m telling you.”

Arthur’s smile was weak, and he hesitated before unclasping his cloak and shrugging out of his jacket. Dagonet didn’t say anything, just eyed him with amusement as Arthur toed off his boots and lifted the covers to let him slip in.

“Bloody hell, your hands are cold!” Dagonet hissed through his teeth.

“No, they’re not,” Arthur chuckled. “You’re like a furnace. Is it supposed to be this warm?”

“Sure, Dagonet said with a half shrug. “It’s standard procedure when sick. When I got ill as a child my mum would always stick me in front of the hearth.”

“She tried to cook you, you mean?” Arthur said in mock surprise.

“Fuck off,” Dagonet laughed, elbowing Arthur mildly in the ribs.

“No really,” Arthur continues, not deterred. “Every time you got a cold she’d be going ‘Ah, roast beef tonight’, I’m telling you.

“Then again, you’re her son, and you’re very precious to her, not to be eaten by some random stranger. So I’d be eating my dinner and say, ‘how strange, this steak tastes like peasant’.”

Dagonet laughed again, but this time he curled up as more of those terrifying coughs tore through his lungs. Arthur felt a twinge of guilt and rubbed his hands over Dagonet’s back, trying to soothe and comfort as Dagonet had done so many times for him. Arthur chewed his dry lips as Dagonet quieted back to rusty gasps.

“Could you do something for me” Dagonet asked hoarsely. “When I do, go, could you tell my mum in person, and not send one of those letters or a messenger? I’d like that, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Arthur swallowed tightly. “When we get home, I’m going to tell her you said that, and she’ll box your ears. And your brother will kick my arse.”

“I think you’re in denial, mate,” Dagonet hissed before clearing his throat loudly. “You’d better wake up soon, or you’ll get a nasty shock when you do.”

“I’m not losing you,” Arthur said through gritted teeth. “I refuse. I won’t let you leave me.”

“If Merlin can’t do anything I don’t see how you-”

“I’ll trade for you,” Arthur said it just as the idea came to him. He felt elevated, and berating himself for not thinking of it before.

Dagonet shifted to look him in the eye. “No”, he said seriously. “I’m not letting you do that. You’re not trading yourself or anyone else.”

“I’m not losing you,” Arthur repeated, getting out of the bed and tucking the blanket back around a weekly resisting Dagonet. He pulled away before Dagonet could properly grab his arm.

“But you’d make me lose you? Arthur? Arthur!” Dagonet called after him but Arthur burst out of the tent, not listening. This was something he could do. If not him personally, then Merlin could help him do it. He tore through the camp, not letting himself think about what he was about to ask.

Arthur wasted no time as he stepped into Merlin’s tent. “Can you take me to the Isle of the Blessed?”

Merlin looked up from the figurine adorned map he had been studying, startled, and then paled visibly paled as he absorbed Arthur’s words. “What?”

“That’s where the gods are, isn’t it?” Arthur pressed. “Can you take me there?”

“Arthur,” Merlin said warily. “I know what you’re thinking, and I understand, _I do_ , but believe me when I tell you it’s a bad idea.”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion, I want you to take me to the isle,” Arthur said quietly, steady.

“I’m not going to do that,” Merlin said, standing away from the desk.

“I am your Prince and sworn Lord, and you will do what I tell you to!” Arthur snapped.

Merlin looked shocked for a moment but shook it off. His lips thinned dangerously. “I am Regent and Acting King of Camelot,” he said in a low voice. “There’s nothing you can make me do.”

Arthur made a frustrated sound. “Merlin,” he said, painfully aware that he was begging. “Please. I can’t just stand by and do nothing as my best friend wastes away.”

“This kingdom needs you,” Merlin said. “Would you be so selfish?”

Arthur men Merlin’s eyes evenly. “This kingdom has been doing just fine without me for sixteen years.”

“They have been waiting for you to take back the throne,” Merlin argued.

Arthur lowered his head and pressed his lips together for a second before looking up at Merlin through his lashes. “You sure they’re waiting for me?

Merlin jerked, frowning with obvious puzzlement. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Besides,” Arthur carried on. “I know for a fact that we have five of Olwin’s knights prisoner, I can have one of them, surely.”

They’re people, Arthur,” Merlin said, getting angry.

“Don’t,” Arthur said, laughing. “Don’t act disappointed, you strike down dozens of men with a snap of your fingers every day.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” Merlin said. “You could drag hundreds of men to the Isle, pretty as you please, but the gods take what they want, not who you chose.”

“I don’t care who they take!” Arthur practically shouted.

“What if they took me?”

Arthur stumbled back a step, as if Merlin had reached out and slapped him, and for a second Arthur wasn’t sure he hadn’t. “I almost can’t believe you,” he said, voice unsteady. “You push me away, every second of every day. And now you play on my emotions? _Damn_ you, Merlin.”

Merlin’s eyes dipped to the ground briefly, before rising up to meet Arthur’s, determination pulsating through the air around him. “I am sorry,” he said evenly. “But I can’t let you do that. Think of Dagonet, would he want this?”

“Would he want me to sit back and let him die?”Arthur countered. Merlin inhaled deeply, as if to speak, but then he looked away. Arthur stared at his profile for a long moment, wishing, _hoping_ that Merlin will understand that this is something he needs to do. But Merlin remains silent and Arthur clenches his jaw on the taste of bile in his throat, and he turns his back on Merlin for the second time that night.

~~~

“ _Fuck_ ,” Dagonet rasped weakly, cheek pressed to the floor. “Ridiculous useless lump of-” he cut himself of, body jerking with the powerful coughs. Chasing after Arthur had been a terrible idea, resulting in the bed tipping and Dagonet tumbling to the floor in a tangle of blankets and weak limbs. As soon as he could draw breath again he tried to get back up. The left shoulder, where the arrow had gone in, spreading the poison from there, was dead. He couldn’t force so much as a twitch out of the shoulder nor the arm. The right arm wasn’t really in any better state but he could brace himself on his elbow. He felt dizzy as his head lifted from the floor, and he shut his eyes, trying to force the feeling away. Dagonet pushed with his legs, huffing out a laugh as he shifted forward. “That’s it,” he grunted, resting his chin on the floor as he reached with his right arm, looking for purchase with trembling fingers. “Easy does it.”

When he tried to push once more with his legs his right foot slipped on the blanket he was wrapped in and the air was shoved out of his lungs and he collapsed again. That dreaded, familiar, feeling of drowning came creeping up from the back of his throat and he grit his teeth in vain as the coughing started again.

Only this time it didn’t ebb away. _Not now, please not now._

He tried to draw breath but his lungs seized up before he could taste the air, compressing.

“No-” he resisted, craning his neck to reach higher, to reach air. “I need-” His body was hot and dry all over, but he had the ocean in his ears and his chest.

“Dagonet?” someone called from far away, too far away. “Dagonet!”

Dagonet blinked away saltwater - tears, _the sea_ \- and looked up. “Ar- Arthur,” he said, trembling all over. “Don’t-” _Don’t. Don’t sacrifice your life, don’t fall into the ocean. Don’t look. Don’t watch me now._

“Oh, _gods_ ,” Arthur was saying, trembling hands pulling him up and letting Dagonet lean back against his lap, “oh no, nononono please, no!”

Dagonet was choking on the ocean, feeling it spilling past his lips as he tried to curl his fingers around Arthur’s wrist. “Sorry,” he barely got out, meeting Arthur’s terrified eyes. Arthur was touching his face, fingers slick on his skin.

“Don’t be sorry,” Arthur said. “What have you got to be sorry for, huh? Just don’t talk right now.”

Dagonet wanted to talk. He wanted to say so much. He wanted to say ‘sorry, I didn’t want to die, I didn’t want to leave you, I didn’t want to be a knight. I didn’t want to leave.’

“I, love you,” the words scraped through his throat and he felt his eyelids grow heavy.

“No. No, no, no,” Arthur chanted, burying his face in Dagonet’s neck, cradling him close. “Love you. So much, you fool, you _know_ that! You fucking well know.” 

Those were the last words Dagonet heard. Perhaps if he had had a little more time, he might have said that they were probably as good as he could have hoped for in last words. After all, Arthur was never a wordy kind of bloke.

But as it were, he didn’t have more time, and he drowned on the floor, Arthur rocking him in his arms, the ocean falling silent in Dagonet’s ears.

~~~

It was six days before Arthur let them build a pyre. Arthur made Merlin promise to make sure they wouldn’t move Dagonet when they had to lead the men. He could tell that Merlin was reluctant, but he promised anyway. 

When Merlin let his hand curl around Arthur’s elbow he wanted to shake him off, but couldn’t make himself actually do it. Arthur leaned into the touch with a resigned sigh, the smoke stinging his eyes.

~~~~~

Olwin, the bastard, had elephants. Only, unlike any elephants Arthur had ever seen, these were on fire.

“Morgana said he was hiding something,” Merlin said blankly. “I suppose this is it.”

“What are you thinking?” Arthur asked, eyeing the beasts as they came over the opposite hill. Merlin thought it over for a second in silence before turning to Arthur. “We pull back our sorcerers, wait until those things reach the valley. Then they team up, two of ours on each. The rest of our troops proceed as planned and do not engage the beasts.”

“But there are eight beasts, that leaves four unguarded whilst our sorcerers take on the others,” Arthur said with a frown.

Merlin looked away, signalling to have his horse brought up. “No,” he said slowly. “They’re not strong enough to take these out. They’re going to keep them occupied whilst I deal with the first four, and then aid our squad.”

“You can’t take them out from up here,” Arthur said, seeing where this was going. “You’re going down there.”

“Yes.”

“ _No,_ ” Arthur snapped. Merlin gave him a gold eyed look, probably already informing his witches and wizards of the change of plans. “Merlin, you’re not going down there without me.”

“And you’re not going down there with a sprained ankle. Arthur, it’ll be fine,” he mounted the grey steed, accepting his helmet from the squire once he was seated. “I have to go down.”

“But what if it isn’t?” Arthur said, feeling cold and too hot at the same time. “What then?”

Merlin gave him a long look through the slits in the falcon shaped helmet, reins clenching in his hands. “Doesn’t matter,” he said finally, kicking the horse into motion. “‘Cause it will be.” Arthur swore under his breath as Merlin took off down into the valley. 

~~~

Arthur wasn’t worried about the battle. They had the advantage over Olwin’s army. Had since the beginning. These beasts did explain why Olwin had pressed the battle, even when it was painfully obvious that he would lose. Arthur wasn’t overly worried about them either, he knew Merlin could beat these creatures, but what did worry him was Merlin diving into the fray. Arthur had been down there almost every time, held back now by this damned sprained ankle, which he had gotten after a miss-step when he was pulled from his horse by an enemy knight who got lucky. Whilst he found himself switching between enjoying the rush and expecting every swing to be his last, he had learnt that open battle was unpredictable. 

That was what worried Arthur as he sat on his horse, wringing the reins in his hands, fighting the impulse to let the animal take him down there. He was following Merlin with his eyes, Merlin who was a swift point of flashing lights. While it intimidated most men Arthur couldn’t help but think it made him a pretty obvious target for any man that dared. Very few dared to take a shot at Merlin, though, because if you did you’d do well not to miss.

Merlin loved his little magical army of eight and had a lot of pride in them and their powers, but he had been right. They weren’t strong enough to take down one of those things on their own. When they were two on one they only just managed to bring one beast to its knees. The two sorcerers went to aid their friends and soon another one was staggering under their combined assault. They seemed to be able to hold their ground so that the beasts didn’t reach Arthur’s knights. 

Merlin on the other hand was a whirlwind of magic and one of the elephants appeared to be dissolving into ash on the hill side. Another was frozen, flames and all, in a powerful display of ice and hail from Merlin’s outstretched hands. 

The creature under attack from the squad fell to the ground with a loud thump and laid there in a smouldering heap. Arthur was beginning to relax as they together felled a third and united against the fourth. Merlin had clearly been training them better than he thought. 

Merlin was turning his horse away from a third carcass in the middle of the field and reached his arm out towards his last target. Arthur saw it a second too late, but still long before Merlin. A man on a horse, eighteen yards away, black gleaming carved bow raised and aimed right at Merlin’s heart. Which was wide open, _damn it_ , with Merlin still turning and his arm stretching out.

Arthur’s mouth was open in a useless shout of warning as the arrow was let loose. Merlin must have sensed or seen it in the corner of his eye because he turned his head to look just as it struck him, and he seemed to freeze for a second. And then he was tipping back, off his horse.

Arthur had dug the blue black stone out from under his mail before Merlin had even fully disappeared out of sight. He pressed it over his heart desperately and shouted _hércyme_. Merlin cried out as he fell to the ground next to Arthur’s horse. “Merlin!” Arthur was off the horse and by his side in seconds. “Merlin, can you look at me?” Merlin swore, pushed his helmet off and tried to sit up, bringing the arrow in his shoulder into view. “No, oh Merlin,” he said, turning his head to bark for a physician.

“Arthur,” Merlin grunted, grasping Arthur’s hand. “Arthur, its fine.”

“Don’t, just shut up, alright?” Arthur snapped, trying not to think about an identical wound just a few weeks ago, as Inder the physician arrived and moved him aside.

“Arthur,” Merlin said, hand still clasped in Arthur’s. “You have to lead the battle.”

“Damn it, I know,” Arthur said, holding him steady as Inder snapped the beautifully carved arrow close to the wound, Merlin bit down on a shout. “Don’t you dare-”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Merlin said, steady in spite of the tremors racking his body. “We have him now, Arthur. You can end this today. Then we can all go home.”

“Alright,” Arthur said, squeezing Merlin’s hands before letting go. “Alright. I’ll take care of everything, just worry about yourself. That’s an order.” 

“Yes Sire,” Merlin smiled tightly as he was moved onto a stretcher.

“My Lord?” Romford enquired from somewhere behind him. Arthur turned away from the stretcher being carried off. “How shall we proceed?”

Arthur looked at the battle field. It was a mess of red and green and ashes floating through the air. The last of the elephants was smouldering quietly on the hill and Merlin’s squad were all grouped together, fighting without strategy since Merlin hadn’t given them any new orders. Arthur gripped the white stone on his necklace in his hand, taking a deep breath to ground him.

“ _Sundorspræc_ ,” Arthur said pressing the stone against his breastplate. Talking like this wasn’t speaking as much as it was sharing thoughts. Arthur thought of how he wanted the sorcerers to spread out in a line over the valley, thinning the enemy out. That had been Olwin’s mistake last skirmish, spreading his army so thin it was a matter of minutes for Camelot’s men to push through them and make Olwin sound a humiliated retreat. Now he was trying to over compensate the mistake, thickening up his line but leaving his sides short and weak. If Arthur could trick him into making the two mistakes at the same time this would finally be over. He turned to Romford when he saw Merlin’s squad begin to move in position.

“Their left flank,” Arthur said, gesturing to where he meant. “It’s weak now that Olwin is focused on pressing forward. Tell Gwaine he is to take his unit and press through there. Lancelot will take his men and go in from the right flank. Olwin’s a coward, same with his commanders, they have no-one in charge on the field. If we can get through and behind there, their men will be cut off from command.”

“Yes, my lord,” Romford said with a quick bow and turned to leave.

“Wait,” Arthur said suddenly. “Tell them, tell them to try to only incapacitate them if possible after they have been cut off. I don’t want a slaughter down there. It’s not their fault that their king is a fool.”

Romford smiled. “Yes, my lord.”


	5. Chapter 5

Arthur sat in silence, watching a sleeping Merlin rest properly for the first time in a very long time.

It was a cruel thing, Arthur had decided years ago, to grow up and realize that you’re not the leading man in a story where you and your friends go on adventures and live happily ever after. That family won’t be around forever. That people grow old, and that you can’t catch up. That Merlin may be able to bring gods to their knees, but he is still a mortal man, and mortal men get killed by arrows.

Arthur couldn’t be sure _when_ Merlin got older precisely. He hadn’t noticed it until now, but it must have happened before. Now that Merlin was lying there, still, clean, peaceful, it was very plain to see. The lines at the corners of Merlin’s eyes were visible even though Merlin wasn’t smiling. Merlin’s forehead showed clear signs of worry and stress.

Arthur was sure, though, that Merlin’s hair had still been pitch-black before Olwin started this whole mess. Even though Merlin had help from Arthur, Leon, Gwaine, Bedivere - and Kay until recently – Merlin was in command of Camelot’s army. That was definitely something that could have caused the silver streaks in his hair. Merlin had been covered in a healthy layer of dust and dirt, like the rest of the men, for the past few months, which had probably hidden all these signs of age from Arthur. Now he was clean, and exposed.

“Did you win?” Merlin croaked, startling Arthur who hadn’t noticed Merlin waking up.

“What?” Arthur blinked. “Oh, yes. Yes, we did. It’s over.”

Merlin seemed to sink deeper into mattress, smiling lazily. “I wouldn’t say over,” he said. “Now we have to get a beaten and humiliated Olwin to sign the treaty, and we have to choose which piece of land we want as spoils. And we have to have a celebration. Lots left to do.”

“Yes,” Arthur agreed, trying to keep his voice flat. “It will be a hard task to get the men to drink their heads off, but we shall simply have to try our best.”

Merlin let out a chuckle and looked at Arthur. Something must have been showing in his face because Merlin frowned and said, “Arthur? What is it? What’s wrong?” He looked like he was about to sit up so Arthur put a hand on his chest, gently pressing him back down.

“You got shot,” Arthur said, not taking his hand back. Merlin looked confused. “You got shot. In the shoulder.”

“Yes, I know. I was there,” Merlin said with a hesitant laugh, clearly not getting it.

“By one of those blasted things- Damn it, _Mer_ lin!” Arthur said, making Merlin flinch for some reason. “I can’t-!”

“ _Oh_ ,” Merlin said, gripping the hand on his chest. “Arthur, no, I- I’m fine. It was just an arrow.”

“Just an --” Arthur frowned.

“It wasn’t cursed, or poisoned, I’m fine,” Merlin said carefully. “It looked like those cursed ones but it was just an ordinary arrow. I’m going to be fine.”

When Arthur had seen the carved arrow sticking out of Merlin’s shoulder it had felt like when you’re walking up the stairs and there was one less step than you had thought. This was the moment when his foot touched the ground again and he let out a harsh breath. Arthur put his hand next to the other one on Merlin’s chest and let his head hang down between his shoulders. “Good. That’s good,” he said, voice low and shaky. Merlin’s other hand came up to rest on the nape of Arthur’s neck, soothing.

“How are you?” he asked. “About him, I mean?”

Arthur raised his head slightly, mindful not to dislodge Merlin’s hand. “Um,” Arthur said, clearing his throat. “Whenever I wake up in the morning I feel sad, upset. And my first thought is to find Dagonet, ‘cause he is always there to comfort me. And then I remember why I’m feeling that way in the first place. So then I feel worse, and I want him back even more. But he is gone. So I try to feel as little as possible.”

“You shouldn’t turn that sort of thing inwards, Arthur,” Merlin said, looking concerned. “If you stop yourself from thinking about Dagonet you’ll lose him. You can keep him alive in memory.”

“Is that what you did?” Arthur said, and then bit down on his tongue sharply.

Merlin hesitated, brows drawing together. “With you, you mean?” he asked eventually. “I didn’t really have to. You didn’t go anywhere.”

Arthur tensed, suspended in a moment of indecision, before pulled his hands away, sitting back out of Merlin’s reach. “Please,” Arthur said with a short laugh. “Can we just stop?”

“What?” Merlin said wearily.

“I figured it out, alright?” Arthur snapped. “I know. So we can stop, now.”

“Arthur, I don’t understand,” Merlin said sincerely, looking worried now.

“The thought came to me years ago, and at first I thought that perhaps you didn’t know. But you probably knew from the beginning,” Arthur bent down and retrieved a thick book from the pack tucked under the cot.

“Is that what I think it is?” Merlin asked, weakly. “I can’t believe you still have that.”

Arthur traced the inscription with his fingertips. “ _Prince Arthur Pendragon_ ,” he said. “Of course I still have it. I always bring it with me when I expect to be away from home a longer time. At first because it’s a book about me. But then I did it because I realized, it’s not really about me at all, is it?”

Merlin blinked, eyes flitting between the book in Arthur’s hands and his solemn face. “I- what? Of course it is-”

“Oh?” Arthur interrupted flatly. He thumbed through the pages before stopping, seemingly at random. “Arthur singlehandedly slays a basilisk at the age of eighteen.” Another page. “Arthur defends Camelot through a siege from Cendred’s army whilst Uther is cursed and bedridden.” Another page. “Arthur kills a unicorn but breaks the curse, proving himself pure of heart. Arthur wins every tourney and challenge, apart from one he throws, since receiving his knighthood.” Arthur let the book tilt down in his lap and gave Merlin a beseeching look. “Can you look me in the eye and tell me that you truly believe I could do any of this?”

“Yes,” Merlin said, sounding out of breath. “ _Arthur_ , just today you lead Camelot to victory.”

“A victory that was already ours,” he said, flicking a new page open and looking down. He makes a soft sound when he sees which story is written on the pages. “The king finds out about your magic and sentences you to burn at the stake at dawn. But as the sun rises, Arthur climbs up on the pyre to burn with you.”

“Yes,” Merlin says immediately, struggling to sit up against the pillows. “You would. I’m sure of it.”

“Of course I would,” Arthur said with a glower. “But because I love you. Not because I’m him.”

“Arthur-”

“Know what I am?” Arthur asked, looking a touch hysterical. “I am the child you found in the woods the same day the man you loved died. I look like Arthur, I sound like Arthur, so in your grief, you and the king decide to try again. To replace Arthur with a replica. To raise me to be the new Arthur, only better. This time, without the father issues. Without the guilt over a mother he never knew. This time, without the arrogance and the repressed emotions.

“But you didn’t think that instead of struggling to fill my father’s shoes I’d struggle with my own. Or that I didn’t understand until I was four that other children had a mother and a father. Not a father and a person who was like a father and an uncle, a brother and a friend all in one. Do you know what it’s like to be a child and have everyone you care the world about look at you like they’re seeing someone else? To be filled with guilt because, you’re not sure why, but it feels like your fault!”

“Arthur, I--” Merlin said, reaching out for Arthur, looking a little sick. “I didn’t think, I never meant for you to feel like you weren’t enough.”

“That’s because you’re a nice person,” Arthur said. He got to his feet and stepped around the chair, tucking the book under his arm. He didn’t want Merlin to touch him now. Not now that he had finally dared to lay all the cards on the table. “You are a good man and you care so much. I just wish you didn’t care enough to lie to me.”

Merlin slowly pushed himself to stand, one leg trembling in exhaustion. The amount of magic he had used and the blood loss in such a short time span had almost been too much for him. “Arthur, I’ve sworn not to lie to you,” he said carefully. “And I haven’t. I _wouldn’t_.”

“Please,” Arthur said, stepping back once more. He was painfully aware that he was losing his composure. “Please just stop!” Merlin went quiet, letting his hands fall to his sides. “You and Arthur, you had this amazing thing, and you love him. But _I’m not Arthur_! All this time you’ve been telling me that I won’t always love you. That what I’m feeling isn’t love. When really it’s you. You don’t love _me_ , you fucking hypocrite! You’ve been trying to blame this on me when you’re the one. It’s you who- I can’t be him.”

Merlin stands stricken, looking pale and worn in the dimly lit tent with only his black sleeping breeches and bloodstained bandages. He looked so stunned. Maybe, Arthur wonders dimly, maybe Merlin didn’t know. If maybe Merlin was the one who didn’t figure it out right away, and Arthur was the one who kept it a secret, afraid of what Merlin would do when he found out. Maybe Merlin just lost his Arthur anew.

“Arthur,” Merlin croaked, snapping Arthur out of his thoughts. He walked past the chair, hesitantly laying a hand on Arthur’s shoulder, as if calming a skittish animal. “That’s not how it is, I do - I-” Merlin tugged at Arthur’s shoulder until he allowed himself to fall against Merlin’s chest. “I love you.”

After a long moment Arthur placed a hand on Merlin’s chest, fitting his palm along Merlin’s ribs, and slowly but firmly pushed him back, ignoring the burning in his eyes. “I’m not needed here anymore. I’m going back to Camelot. Lancelot and some of the men ride in the morning, he’s missing Gwen and the children I think, I’m going with them.”

Merlin gave him a pleading look. “Please don’t run away now.”

“I’ll see you when you return,” Arthur said and turned away, as if Merlin hadn’t spoken at all, all the fight draining out of him as the cool outside air washes over his face.

~~~

Morgana was in the crowd waiting to welcome them as Arthur and his men rode into the torch-lit courtyard at dusk, the sun setting earlier in the days now. Lancelot was off his horse almost before it had stopped, seemingly without the stiffness that came with a full day’s riding. With a child around his waist and one on his leg he swept Gwen right off her feet, making her yelp and laugh. Arthur gratefully handed the reins to his horse over to a stable hand and walked up to Morgana, letting her wrap him up in a warm embrace.

“Hello, little one,” she said, kissing his cheek, no doubt leaving behind a smear of red.

Arthur gave her a wry smile, wiping at his face. “I’ll be taller than you in a year or so, you know,” he said.

“I shall simply have to wear higher shoes,” she replied haughtily as she turned to address the other knights. “You are all very welcome home, knights of Camelot! You have all fought bravely and you have protected this kingdom and her people. There will be a feast in a week when the rest of the army returns, but for those of you who don’t quite feel like turning in just yet, there is wine and cheese and meat in the banquet hall. And I do believe there’s a group of very impatient wives and siblings and children there as well.” She waved them on with a knowing smile. “Well, off you go.”

Arthur smiled as the men hurried past them up the steps. 

“You probably want to rest, or will you drink with this old harpy?” Morgana pinched the back of his neck, walking with him towards the doors.

“Rest, definitely,” Arthur said, sighing. “But there’s someone I need to see first.”

Morgana paused as they stepped over the threshold. “Dagonet didn’t ride with you,” she said carefully, watching him with a frown, before her face cleared. “ _Oh_ , is he? Oh no.” Arthur looked away, picking at his gloves. “ _Arthur_.”

“Please,” Arthur said, looking up again. “You can give me your sympathies later, I don’t think I could take it right now. I promised to talk to his mum.”

“Of course,” Morgana said, touching his arm. “We can talk after the feast, perhaps?”

“I would like that,” Arthur said honestly, placing his hand on hers before pulling away.

Arthur arrived outside Dagonet’s door far too soon somehow. Dagonet had been gifted a large set of rooms when he became a knight, big enough for him and his mother. And his brother, had he not opted to live in the room over the cobbler’s where he worked.

He stood in silence, with his hand posed to knock, not knowing what to say. He was seconds away from convincing himself that it would be better to return tomorrow when he heard a soft “oh” behind him. Dagonet’s mother, Alyn, was walking down the hall and had obviously started at seeing him there.

“Arthur!” she said, smiling and hurrying the last few feet to pull him into a hug. “You’re back! How good it is to see you again.” Arthur stood frozen on the spot, unable to even open his mouth, or hug her back.

When she pulled to look at him she must have seen something in his face because Alyn’s smile faltered. “Arthur, where’s Dagonet?”

“I- I’m sorry,” Arthur said, moving to hold her hands in his. Alyn made a helpless sound, stumbling back, away from him. Her hands trembled as she brought them up to her mouth. Arthur jerked as her legs gave way under her and she knelt on the floor in the middle of the hallway. He crouched down next to her, hands hovering uselessly in the air between them as he was unsure whether she would push him away or not. 

She let out a harsh sob and tugged him closer until she could push her face into the crook of his neck. He held her as tightly as he dared and ignored the wetness in his own eyes, rocking her like others had done for him in the past.

~~~

“We’re the same age, you know,” Alyn said some time later. They had moved so they were sitting side by side, backs against the closed door to her rooms.

“Really?” Arthur said, not knowing at all.

“Maybe a year or so apart, but yes,” she said, smiling weakly at him. “My mother was a maid in the castle. We never really met, a prince couldn’t consort with the children of servants back then. And King Uther was rather-- protective. But I remember how you sometimes watched me and my brothers play in the market with our friends. So I was glad for you when you and Dagonet became friends. I am still glad. You meant so much to him.”

Arthur wasn’t sure if she knew just how much he had meant to Dagonet. If she knew how much he had taken that affection for granted and mistreated it. “I took him from you,” he said, swallowing thickly. “I failed you both.”

“I don’t think that’s how Dagonet would see it,” she said, touching his forearm, fingers clenching in his sleeve. She leaned forward to catch his eyes. Arthur made himself meet her earnest look. “Neither will I, and neither should you.”

Arthur didn’t know if he could make that promise. He felt rather certain that he would be carrying the blame for Dagonet’s death with him always. Dagonet had been a constant in Arthur’s life. A source of joy and comfort and friendship. The thought that haunted Arthur the most after his death, was that, Arthur wasn’t sure that he had been the same to Dagonet. A few months ago he wouldn’t have hesitated to say yes. But with Dagonet gone and no-one else to ask but his own memory it wasn’t so clear.

“I can try not to,” Arthur opted to say, hoping it wasn’t a complete lie.

~~~

Arthur was drowsing in front of the hearth in a chair, knees pulled up with his arms loosely wrapped around them, when Morgana let herself into his chambers. Arthur had excused himself early from the hall. No-one would begrudge him that, he was the conquering war hero, after all.

“Hey,” Morgana said, closing the door behind her. “You awake?”

“Only just,” Arthur said, bringing one hand up to rub his eyes. Morgana dragged a chair over, sitting down with it angled half towards him, half towards the last stubborn flames flickering amongst the embers. “How is the celebration coming along?”

“Peaking. Again,” Morgana said with a lazy smile, obviously she had had quite a bit to drink. “I almost didn’t hear the bells signalling midnight.”

“I’m guessing nothing will get done tomorrow,” Arthur hummed.

“Nothing _needs_ getting done tomorrow, Arthur dearest,” Morgana said, reaching over to gently brush at Arthur’s hair with her fingertips. “We’ll be in a better state by the time Merlin and the rest comes home next week. And then we’ll celebrate again.”

They sat in silence for a while, Arthur’s eyes slipping shut as he tilted his head into the touch. Morgana had always been very precious to Arthur, because she never looked at him like so many others did. Be it servants or knights, nobles or Merlin. Morgana looked at Arthur like he was an original.

“I’m sorry about Dagonet,” Morgana said eventually. Arthur tensed but didn’t pull away. “We can talk about it, if you like. Or you can talk, and I can listen. Or you can listen and I can talk.”

“You’ve been drinking with the knights, haven’t you?” Arthur huffed, smiling knowingly. 

Morgana blinked at him owlishly, letting her hand fall down to grab at his forearm. “Well, it’s no good drinking with the ladies. The only one who’s any fun is Gwen, and she left earlier than you, probably to help Lancelot get properly reacquainted with their bed, considering she arranged for someone to take the children for the night.”

“It must be nice,” Arthur sighed. “Having children. Maybe I’ll have some one day. A wife that lives and a couple of children, that would probably be a first for a Pendragon.”

“I don’t think Merlin would care for being called wife,” Morgana sing songed.

“Bloody good thing I wasn’t talking about him, then,” Arthur muttered, pulling his arm out from under her hand to press his between his knees, hunching over slightly.

“What-?” Morgana stammered.

“I’m stopping,” Arthur said, not looking into Morgana’s wide eyes. “I’m giving up. I’m not going to ask anything from Merlin anymore, I’ve realized how it is now.”

“But, you _can’t_ ,” Morgana wheezed like she was out of breath, obviously very sober now. “You’ve been dancing around this for years. _Both_ of you!”

“And now it’s over,” Arthur said firmly, giving her a guarded look, “You know, I’d expected you to be pleased."

Morgana gaped, obviously completely thrown by the turn the conversation had taken. “Why on earth would I be pleased about this?”

“He’s all yours, now,” Arthur said with forced levity, looking away from her. “I won’t try to steal him from you. Not that it would make a bit of difference if I did. It’s obvious his interests do not lie with me.”

“Steal him from _me_?” Morgana repeated the words like they were foreign. “Don’t tell me you think that-- that Merlin and _i_ -”

“Do you think that I don’t see the way you are together?” Arthur said, huffing incredulously. “The way you’re so close? How you’re always, touching him? And do you honestly expect me to believe that he hasn’t fucked anyone in fifteen years?”

Arthur wanted to take it back before Morgana had even raised her hand. The slap seemed unnaturally loud in the silence of the rooms. Morgana stared at him for a second, breathing heavily through her nose, before she stood up and went over to the window. She sighed shakily and placed her hands firmly on her hips, just looking into the dark outside.

Arthur stood up hesitantly, just hovering over his seat for a moment before going over to her. “Sorry,” Arthur said, touching her wrist with just the tips of his fingers, half expecting her to jerk away, but she just tilted her face towards the ceiling. “I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean to--”

“No, I-” Morgana started, turning to face him, letting her wrist rest in his loose grip. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have struck you.” 

She went to touch his cheek where it was already turning red. Arthur smiled sadly at her and she made a helpless sound and let the corner of her mouth lift slightly. “Listen,” she said and leaned against the window ledge, pulling him along with her so Arthur was standing right in front of her. Morgana rested her palms together and pressed her fingertips to her lips, seemingly unsure where to start. “When you got cursed, everybody lost something. Camelot lost its crown prince, Uther lost his son. Merlin lost his future husband, because I’m convinced that you were a few years away from saying ‘Hang the laws’ and marrying him anyway. And I lost my brother, Arthur.” 

Arthur frowned. “I’m not your brother.” Morgana gave him a wry smile.

“Maybe not in name or blood, but in every way that matters,” she said, giving him an imploring look. “Do you see?”

“See?” Arthur repeated, not seeing at all.

“Merlin didn’t replace you with me,” she said. “ _I_ replaced you with _him_.”

“Oh,” Arthur breathed. “So you’re like-”

“-brother and sister,” Morgana continued. “I’m sorry. But I still see you as a brother, just a very young one.”

“And I suppose I see you as my sister,” Arthur said, reaching out to tangle his fingers with hers. “Admittably a very--”

“Yes?” Morgana urged, letting her nails scrape warningly over the back of his hand.

“Very lovely, sister,” Arthur smirked slightly.

“Thank you, Arthur,” she said, letting his hand go and standing up, heading over to the table to pick up a bunch of grapes. “Now, please tell me that wasn’t the reason you’ve decided to give up. And that you haven’t told him.”

“It wasn’t the only reason,” Arthur said and wandered over to the hearth. “It doesn’t change my decision.”

“So you told him,” Morgana groaned around a grape.

“Yes, I bloody well told him,” Arthur met her eyes evenly. “He doesn’t love me and pretending that we both don’t know it won’t make anyone happy. I’d much rather end the charade now than in five years.”

“He doesn’t-- did he actually say that?” Morgana asked. “Did he use those words, or did you use them?” Arthur’s eyebrows drew together.

“He didn’t need to say it,” Arthur argued. “It’s plain to see. He loves me like a brother, or a son, or whichever way it is we fit together, but not more than that.”

“I must disagree.”

“I have made it abundantly clear that I am his, should he want me, but I have yet to be claimed,” Arthur said, arms held open. “Leon’s wife is twelve years younger than him and there’s nothing strange about that, because they are in love. Merlin is hiding behind numbers because he doesn’t have the heart to tell me how he feels.” Arthur paused before adding, shoulders sagging, “Or, how he doesn’t feel, as the case were.”

“I _believe_ that Merlin is in love with you, Arthur, I truly do,” Morgana said firmly. “I don’t know why he’s behaving like this, my best guess is that he’s scared.”

Arthur gave her a bemused look. “Scared?” Arthur asked. “Of what? He’s the one in charge.”

“I don’t know,” Morgana said with a helpless gesture, letting the rest of the grapes return to the bowl. “That’s just the feeling that I have.”

Arthur leaned closer, peering at her. “Feeling?” he said. “Have you dreamt something?”

Morgana gave him a patient look. “Arthur, I see sights of great deeds and evil wars, not whether Merlin will get around to popping your cherry in the foreseeable future or not,” she said dryly.

“It’s been popped,” Arthur said petulantly. “But not by him, and I wouldn’t change that.”

Morgana blinked at him before striding over and taking his face in her hands. “You’re growing up too fast,” she said. “I don’t like it. Soon you’ll be that age where you refuse hugs and decide that you don’t need me.”

Arthur huffed. “I’ve been that age for years,” he laughed. “You’ve just been hugging me anyway.” Morgana smiled and leaned in to touch her nose with his, and when she pulled away Arthur said. “But I’ll always need you. No matter how old I get.”

Morgana looked so delighted that Arthur almost felt embarrassed. “Then I will always be here for you, you daft boy.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fucking hell, that only took me roughly two years. 
> 
> Sorry everyone who's been waiting, especially those of you who have been around from the beginning, you know who you are and so do I, and I hope the wait was worth it.
> 
> I have cherished your support and comments and I thank you for going through this monster with me.
> 
> Please review and tell me what you think, lots of love,
> 
> /Letut

It seemed to Arthur like all of Camelot had come out into the streets as Merlin and the rest of the army returned. Merlin hugged Morgana close with a warm smile, and if he felt at all hesitant about doing the same to Arthur he didn’t show it.

Before the feast, just as the sun began to set, everyone who lost someone, sons, fathers, brothers in arms, came out to the lake and watched as Merlin and Morgana preformed a ceremony to ensure safe passage to Avalon for all the fallen soldiers. The hundreds of lights moved peacefully across the dark waters, and only dimmed as they reached the mist in the middle.

As the last of the sunlight left the air, and the last candle flickered out of view, they returned to the castle. 

Then it didn’t take long for the food, drink and music to bring the mood back to celebratory. Arthur quickly found himself smiling and singing along with Gwaine’s bawdy songs. Arthur wasn't avoiding Merlin, if only because he didn’t have to. Apart from a glint of salt and pepper hair and a beaming smile now and then Arthur didn’t really see Merlin. And with Gwaine and some of the other older knights as his drinking partners he was getting very well acquainted with the bottom of his wine goblet.

It was well into the small hours when Arthur blinked and realized that he was staring at the dark wood of his doors, not quite sure how or when he had ended up there. He swivelled his head to look at the guard standing by the side of the archway, contemplating asking how long he had been standing there. Best not, he though. 

“Right,” Arthur hummed and fumbled with his key and the door handle, getting it open on the fourth try, swaying inside before letting the door fall shut again. The room was deliciously warm, and Arthur spared a though for whatever saint of a servant had tended the fire. After a brief struggle he left his jerkin folded -- alright bundled -- on the table and his boots standing under it.

It was a relief for Arthur to flop onto the bed, sighing as the world gently spun him ‘round and ‘round. He was under no illusion that his head wouldn't try to kill him in a few hours, but right now he was in that in between state where one sobers up, but still not all there. For now he was determined to enjoy the buzz. 

When the knocks came from the door Arthur didn’t react at first, the thuds sounding like they came from far away, or perhaps from his own head. When it didn’t stop Arthur had to sit up, giving the door a considering look. He cleared his throat, trying to sound a little less drunk as he called out “Enter!”

Merlin laughed, loud and carefree, as he stumbled though the door, kicking it shut behind him with a move that looked like it should have tipped him over. “I hope you realize what a massive pillock you sound like when you use that voice,” he said leaning against the back of one of the high chairs. “It’s all very nostalgic.”

“I sound just fine,” Arthur said after a bemused moment. He hadn't really expected Merlin of all people. His hair and clothes were in a messy state, and his circlet was missing. Arthur noted the flushed cheeks and easy grin and was fairly sure he’d never seen Merlin this drunk before. “You’re off your face,” Arthur huffed with amusement.

“ _Please_ ,” Merlin snorted. “This is nothing. There was a time I would get twice as drunk on half as much.” He bent one arm to prop his face up in his palm, the corners of his mouth pulling up in a grin. “A bit like a girl, yeah? You think I'm a girl for getting drunk, don’t you Arthur?”

Arthur laughed incredulously at that, as well as the look on Merlin’s face. “A girl? Of course I don’t,” he said, a little bit thrown. Arthur thought of how Morgana could inhale ridiculous amounts of alcohol and then be perfectly fine, apart from the bouts of giggling.

“No. No, of course you don’t,” Merlin said loudly, interrupting Arthur’s thoughts. He stepped around the chair lazily. He shook his head, still beaming, holding one hand up. “You don’t think I'm a girl. You don’t think I'm an idiot. You don’t think I'm stupid, lazy, useless, insubordinate, or generally a waste of space.”

Arthur’s already uncertain smile faltered as Merlin jerkily tugged the fingers down one by one. “I don’t understand,” he said.

“You used to,” Merlin said simply, shrugging one shoulder. “You would say _Merlin you imbecile_ , and that’s exactly what everyone would hear. But not us. No, not you and me. We’d hear _Merlin, I care about you_. You’d call me incompetent and it would mean you thought me precious. Moron and trust, idiot and love.”

“I don’t do that,” Arthur said quietly.

Merlin blinked at him. “Indeed you don’t,” he said, his smile losing some of its unhinged quality. “You usually just say what you feel so I didn’t notice it. Or, maybe, I didn’t think of it? There are such a large number of things that are different about you, then, and now, that it never really crossed my mind that you might not be _you_.”

“I am sorry, Merlin, I tried,” Arthur pressed, looking away. “ I've tried so hard to be him but I don’t really know him. I, I just couldn’t.”

“Don’t apologize,” Merlin shushed, moving to lean against a bedpost, the wood creaking as he thumps his shoulder against it. “I don’t think you realize how very alike you are. It can be something you say, or do, or a silly face you pull and I physically _ache_. Arthur, I’ve been glad that you haven’t realized the pain and humiliation you’ve caused me since your voice dropped.”

Arthur’s mouth felt very dry. “Why are you telling me this?” he asked plaintively.

“I have a point, just, just bear with me,” Merlin reassured. “Do you remember when you turned sixteen?”

Arthur blinked at him, “If I remember eight months ago?” he hedged. “Of course I do, I'm not turning gray, like certain others.”

“Don’t be an ass,” Merlin groaned. “I mean, do you remember what you did that day?”

“Well, first I had breakfast. Ham and eggs, I think,” Arthur said, mouth twitching as Merlin gave him a glare without any actual disapproval behind it. “Right, sorry. I beat Bedivere under a minute and you had Kilgharrah fly you here from the battle just for the day and gave me my knighthood.” 

“And then he carried you, me and Dagonet to Excalibur and you pulled her from the rock,” Merlin finished. 

Arthur recalled that moment with vivid clarity. He remembered that jubilant look on Dagonet’s face. The Great Dragon’s soft breathing. The fear, the absolute bone shattering terror that he would squeeze the warm hilt and the sword simply wouldn't budge. That Excalibur would always be forged to the stone, waiting for someone who would never be retrieving her. 

The proud beam Merlin gave him when Excalibur came out with a clear ring, like a song.

“I was so scared,” Arthur whispered throatily. “For years I had been almost dreading the moment. So sure was I that she wouldn’t let me wield her.”

“I know,” Merlin nodded. “Not then, of course, but I've had some time to think. And I must say some things make more sense.”

“So what was your point?” Arthur prodded.

“What? Oh, yes. My point is that you are _you_ , even if you’re not,” Merlin said with an inelegant gesture. “I don’t care what you are and what you aren’t, ‘cause the important bits are the same. The bits I fell in love with. Both times. ‘Cause I love you. Whoever that may be.”

Arthur knew he should say something about all this. He ran his hands through his hair, just looking at Merlin helplessly. Merlin who stood there, arms folded in front of him, perfectly calm. Merlin, who kept pushing Arthur away and pulling him in. Merlin, who was, and always had been, Arthur’s everything.

“Wh- why are you telling me this now?” Arthur finally stuttered.

“Because it’s been a bit of a busy day,” Merlin said, a soft smile stretching across his narrow face. “And I would have told you right away if you hadn't run off like a petulant child.”

Arthur let out an involuntary shaky laugh, and hesitated before scooting forward a few inches on the bed. “I didn’t run off,” he said.

“Of course not,” Merlin agreed, still leaning against the bedpost, eyeing Arthur’s movement. “It was a strategic retreat.”

“Something like that, yeah,” Arthur nodded. He should definitely say something, Arthur thought dimly as he got his knees in under himself, shuffling on them until he could lean on the same bedpost. He looked straight into Merlin’s very dark eyes, thinking he should say that if Merlin pushes him away now he’ll stop trying. Arthur should have asked if Merlin was sure. Because they had both been drinking, and if Merlin regretted it when, whatever that sweet tasting thing Gwaine had been passing around, wore off, Arthur might not be able to take it. Maybe he should have said that Merlin is a stubborn fool, and an idiot, and hope that Merlin would hear the ‘I've been right here and I love you’.

But all Arthur can manage is, “Come to bed, Merlin.”

Merlin’s fingers went white where they dug into his own arms before letting go, and carefully grabbing onto Arthur instead. “All right,” he said, and pulled him forward for a kiss.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Being with Merlin is not much different from how it was. But it is still different.

The boring council meetings are easier to get through when Merlin will dimple at him and reach out to affectionately pinch Arthur’s restless fingers.

They make up half-arsed excuses to go on long rides, and if they happen to picnic down in a meadow, well, people just hide their smiles at Arthur’s rumpled hair and the leaves sticking to Merlin’s cloak as they return. 

Morgana, of course, is insufferable. Every lunch they have together is laced with subtle observations and remarks that has Arthur blushing furiously and Merlin snorting into his goblet. She also appears to have lost all impulse control when it comes to being physically affectionate and pulls Arthur in for vigorous snuggles any chance she gets. Merlin tries to slip away when he can sense it coming but is usually very unsuccessful.

They are terrible at hiding it, maybe because they’re not trying very hard, and nearly every servant in the royal household has stumbled upon a snogging session in some tucked away corner of the library, and the stables. And the kitchen. And the great hall. And the castle walls. And the hall ways. And- -

And at night. At night they bed down in Arthur’s, _their_ , chambers. Sometimes just sleeping in each other’s arms, their heartbeats touching through their chests. Warm and content.

But more often than not, they don’t sleep.

Sometimes it’s slow and sweet. Torturous in how good it is, Arthur a whimpering mess sprawled on the sheets, begging “Please, _please_ Merlin”. Sometimes it’s hot and desperate, like animals, mindlessly rutting. It is times like that, like their first time, when, Arthur entertains the notion that maybe Merlin _hasn't_ bedded anyone in fifteen years, and is now determined to make up for it. Arthur doesn't mind that one bit, often rolling on top and riding Merlin senseless, loving the sound of him panting for it.

But it’s not always easy.

It’s hard to have been telling yourself one thing for years, and then suddenly having to stop believing it. It’s so very good when Merlin looks at him across a room, and the love is plain to see in every line of his body. It’s so very good, but-

Every once in a while, Arthur’s mind is his own worst enemy. Because it is in his mind, isn't it?

Because when Merlin comes, hot and wet, deep inside of him, Arthur presses his eyes shut and follows. And he tells himself that when Merlin moans ‘Arthur’ it does sound like his name.

The End


End file.
